


The Veiled Secrets and Shadows

by AlphaPockets, hufflepurls



Series: World Unknown [1]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Continuation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Rescue, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaPockets/pseuds/AlphaPockets, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepurls/pseuds/hufflepurls
Summary: After being kidnapped from his new home in New York, Brad was taken to the mountains of California to live in the company of another super natural. Nate and his Clan are forced to balance both their disappointment and fury at tradition and procedure and their desperate need to find Brad before it's too late. Through the help of another clan from California, Ray and Walt make a plan while Nate and Mike wrestle with their council.*** A continuation, see notes***
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick, Walt Hasser/Ray Person
Series: World Unknown [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882825
Comments: 23
Kudos: 20





	1. Home Once More

**Author's Note:**

> This a continuation of Icetalon's [A World Unknown,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/290863/chapters/465271) that has sat untouched for now 8 years. It was an interesting and widely popular supernatural fanfiction, and after reading it I saw that there was both disappointment that it was not touched again, and that the author seemed to have even abandoned the LJ version and left the journal site. I waited about a year until I though it was a good break (8 years is a long time) between the completion of the first part and the continuation to start this.
> 
> Notes: I do not read super natural romance (or any for that matter) novels, so much of the lore that was used in the original fic I have carried over to the best of my ability. I have modernized the fic to 2019 so I am not trying to remember what programs and phones were popular 7-8 years ago, and I have adjusted some of the perspectives to feel more true to those represented in the TV show. I adored the original fic, but I felt it was more fair to give it the 20% different rule of covers to my take on part two.
> 
> Also shout out to my girl, Hufflepurls who is acting as the sounding board and beta for this. For someone who has edited all of my school papers, she is irreplaceable in my written life. This will be a weekly post, as I have a huge paper to finish in 2 months, but I have about 1/4 written already.
> 
> I don't own 97% of the characters, the world, or the lore. And I hope I do it justice to anyone around now who was wishing for the part two.

Brad awoke with a start. It was dark where he had been staying for what he assumed was the last three days. He couldn’t be sure, as there was no way to tell the passage of time. He had slept more than what was normal, and his mind had been confused and in a haze. Cabin fever, it seems, was not just a thing of isolated woodsmen. He vaguely remembered arriving in California and being put into a van, driven here, and deposited. He had barely seen the sun only ever in glimpses through the car window when he had been taken away into the night. And at the moment, those memories were more distant as his breathing settled from the memories he had been reliving in his sleep. They were vivid and strong—so much so, he could taste the cold air. It bit at his face with the whipping wind.

He had never been in a place so cold and desolate. He closed his eyes and tried to pull back the images before they drifted away into the fog. It had been night, and Brad was sure he had known where he was headed. It was straight forward until a clearing at the stream, then left. But it seemed he had been turned around in the white-out conditions. He had been exhausted, though it made no sense. The body he had had in that moment should have been coursing with possibly unending reserves. It might have been the searing pain in his side and the blood he had felt trickling out. He had seen it, too. Drops among the untouched snow that fell knee-high. But something kept pushing him forward. He needed to get some place but exactly what had escaped him. All he could remember was the cold, the wind, and the dense conifers all around.

He had woken as someone had grabbed him in the dream. Firm and sure hands. The moment of panic had shook him and he felt it in his bones. But now, he was unsure why. Brad was alone in a warehouse of some kind, locked in a cage and bound by the wrists. Twice, now, he had been taken captive by the supernatural community. Twice it had been his fault, too. That was what he had accepted in the time since he had been kidnapped. He had not thought either moment through well enough. The first one was his curiosity unchecked, but it led him to safe hands. The second was a need to escape whatever confusing thoughts had encroached on his mind in the aftermath of the Bonding. He had thought he would be safe with access to the Net and his ex-girlfriend safely in California. Nate had not been so easily comforted, but the older man had simply decided it was his own overprotectiveness that made him hesitant.

How wrong they were.

Five days, from what he could tell. He had a lot of time to think about everything. There were statements Jake had made that night in his house that made no sense at the time. The shock, the absence of pressure in his mind as he called for help, and the helplessness had not been on his side. It was strange to think himself overemotional or scared in any sense. The man had been raised by a family who had not been easy on him. He had gone to military school when he had misbehaved as an adopted child, and he had worked in a dangerous city as a cop for years before his transfer. He had never had moments of gripping fear or overwhelming stress that had brought him to the brink of dysfunctional. Yet, it seemed whatever primal fear that Jake and Julie had ripped from him came not from something inside him but somewhere else.

Nate had warned him that they would feel strongly for the first few months, and that it would make their interactions harder. The fledgling Bond would be a mix of both what they felt on their own and together. His fear and panic, that night, Brad realized had been his mind reacting to the rage, shame, and guilt Nate had felt for allowing Brad back to the Run. The strong emotion Nate had felt when driving back from their first run after Julie had tossed his place had not been an unsound mind raging, but that overprotective need only made worse by the shock, fear, and anger that Brad had felt in hearing the news. It made sense, now that he thought about how he had returned to a calmer state of mind, even with the primal fear he had brewing, with the distance from Nate. The Net was closed off, so he could not be influenced by the other side.

The silence was something else Brad had wondered about. Plenty of spare time had led to only one real option: distance. Much like a walkie-talkie, the ability to connect must have had a shorter range than the distance from Brad’s house to anyone else in the Clan. He had been isolated simply by his location, not because they abandoned him as he feared. His only sign that help had been on the way was the momentary, blinding rage he had felt as the SUV he had been loaded into sped away from trailing headlights. It was a pressure he had learned was Nate-specific. It was an overwhelming sense of dread, hatred, regret, and volcanic rage that had sprung tears into Brad’s eyes. Not even an attempt at warmth and comfort that he was alive seemed to impact it before they were too far gone. Help had been on the way, which at least comforted Brad. He had not been abandoned. And if he knew one thing about his Tied shifter, it was that Nate would destroy the world to get back one of his own.

That love, for lack of a better and less pathetic word, had been what pushed Brad to step away from living with Nate. After their fight a few weeks before had ended with Brad pinned, shirtless, and straddled by Nathaniel, he had felt a lot of thoughts that should not have been his own. The enjoyment of how unassumingly attractive the man was when he smiled bright and shiny in his uniform with a hand on his service weapon as relaxed as a kid on a walk. How his muscles shifted and flexed under his workout clothes or bed clothes at night. Feeling the overwhelming strength that Nate had coiled away that night stayed firmly in Brad’s mind, as did the way he seemed too keen at the idea of being held. As a kitten and as a puppy. And more than once the night he slept with Nate buried against him as a cat did, he almost wish it had not been an animal but the man himself. At first, the thought it was how the Bond connected him to Nate, as they were now together until they died. A sense of kinship and comfort of sorts, but it did not explain how he had been bothered with the silence of the fight and relieved strongly when it was over.

But the connection with the Bond had to explain some of it. If Jake’s words were true, his life was now extended to match Nate’s. That had not been something the other man mentioned in their talks. That Brad would stop aging now, as Nathaniel had in the 1800s, and he would live to see his family grow old and expire while he remained young. That had been something he wished he had heard before Jake, or at least had been told with people around him to help him grasp that. To look at people he would spend his life with willingly like Rudy, Walt, and even Ray. Now, he could only think of how he would be spending it with the High Elder Jordan he was off to meet eventually. And that they would have Nate caged and imprisoned for life if the other man was caught. He had no way to warn the other man what he had learned. No way to express that coming for him would be a trap. He figured for someone who loved to run, prison was worse than death.

And what did his life have in store? From what Brad could tell, it was not much better. No cages like this once transported, but would it be free? He knew it wouldn’t be. Every day away from Nate, the urge to run back was growing. The Bond would not settle and remain weaker, but that did not mean he couldn’t feel it. That he knew vaguely what direction the man was, if he focused hard enough. But his future would be spent in the service of this High Elder Jordan in whatever manner he seemed fit. A slave, for lack of a better word, in his house. And he knew that this was the illegal reason that the Logans had hunted for him. Because their secrecy and shame showed that this was something not accepted among the supernatural community now. That what he would be forced into was something old, dark, and dangerous. That Jordan had intended to Bond and Tie Brad to himself, and Nate’s interference had spoiled that. Brad was the reason Nate would be allowed to live, if only because he could not be Tied again, even if Nate died.

The door finally clanged open long and loud from across the warehouse and dim sunlight shone through. The wave of salt hair pushed through the stagnant hall, and Brad knew he was still in Southern California. San Diego, perhaps, or someplace similar. It made sense. That was where Julie had originally lived from what lies she told him. He had pieced together, now, that she and Jake had been together long before the breakup. That she had her eyes on him for less romantic reasons. It was possible. Their years together had been passionate and designed to trap him. Nate had told him that she wanted Brad for herself, but he now wondered if that desire was not for him personally but as a token for her Elder.

“Look who’s awake,” Jake’s voice echoed through the room. “Just in time. We’re about to head out. Feel like getting In N’ Out on the way up?” The jeering in his voice was plain. The Were knew he had the upper hand here. Brad only clenched his jaw and said nothing.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” another voice commented. It was a male he vaguely remembered from the precinct he had been in before leaving. “It’s the least we can do after locking you up. We’ll even get you a shake.”

“Can’t you just let me go and find someone else for this Jordan?” Brad snipped and sat back against the far wall of bars of the cage.

“No,” Jake snapped and flinched at the casual use of the name. _Interesting,_ Brad thought to himself. That was something to explore later. “He’s had you in his sights for too long, now. If you behave, I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.”

The other man unlocked the door. He was bulking and muscular with a dim face. He grabbed Brad’s restraints and hoisted him to his feet with little effort. “Your best bet is to forget the pretty boy now,” he sneered. “You’re not seeing him again.”

Brad could only glare as another gag was forced into his mouth. A van backed into the warehouse, and his long trip into the Sierras began.


	2. Downtown Lit Conversations

It had been a week since Bradley was kidnapped. And it had been hell in both the precinct and in the Clan itself. Ray, Walt, and Rudy had worked with Mike to spread the rumors that the missing man’s grandfather passed away suddenly, hence his quick departure. His cases were given over to some other Clan members quick to pick up the sudden slack to lighten the load on Ray, who was now partner-less and stressed over his own mentor and mentee. He was stuck in a unique spot both at work and in his private life. He had an extreme loyalty to the man who had helped train and guide him in the weird, confusing world of shifting and Weres. Ray loved Nate fiercely as a brother with how long they had lived by each other and ran with each other. However, he had a charge of his own who was still new to the world and in a state of shock that was more upsetting to witness than it may have been to endure.

The Clan had been in disarray since Elder Shasta told them all what had happened. She had been down from her cabin to help apprehend the Logans, but they were too late. There had been a lot of confusion and anger that this had happened at all. As defensive of the Elder and the old ways as Ray was, he also felt that some of the younger members had a good point. All of this ceremony and tradition had been the reason why Brad had been kidnapped. That the “old” world had betrayed them in the same way it had a few times to other places. It was no longer wise to wait on the ruling from people a world away for incidents they don’t care about. The High Council were not there when Jake tried to remove Brad while at the Run they requested permission to attend in the first place. They were not there when Nate realized that Brad had been taken and their car was getting away faster than they could give chase.

They had not heard the screams of anguish and pain that had ripped from him as he was forced to realize that he had failed. That he had not been there for his Bondmate after he had done as the Old World demanded.

He had not seen Nate since that night, he had been up at the Catskills since. From what Gunny had said, the man was near inconsolable. It had taken him days to recover from the primal withdrawal. What bothered Ray about that was the look Rudy had given when it came to that news. That he understood something Ray didn’t. And when he questioned Rudy, the answer was even more confusing. He had known that Nate had been attracted to Brad before the Bond had happened. It was not like Nathaniel had been as subtle as he had thought. From full watches on him when there was a threat to the way his eyes followed the tall man, everyone in the Clan who knew his persuasion lent toward other men knew he was smitten. It was only made clear that he was in deep when he was willing to go through hours of torture unending if it meant sparing Brad’s life. That he would Tie himself to the man.

Rudy had simply said, “He has lost a vital part of his soul. A fear I have every time Pappy is on patrol.”

It was something that Ray had not really understood about the Bond. He knew it had them connected in a way that was permanent and intimate, but he had never realized that it was as though Nate had felt something ripped from him as Brad had been taken away. He had lost someone so significant to the man that it pained him. It was more than losing a lover or family member. While not all super naturals cared for the human they were bound to, Nate had been keen on Brad from the start. Ray figured that made it worse. The Bond may not have been set fully, but it was still so deep in Nate’s being that he had been more settled than he should have been in a month.

“Stop looking so distant,” Walt chided quietly. Ray blinked and realized that the other man had been trying to get his attention. “Are you still thinking about him?” There was something in Walt’s voice. Shattered in a way that was not as timid or weak as he had seemed while adjusting to his new drives and impulses. It almost seemed wistful.

“No,” he tried then rolled his eyes. “Yes. Nate’s been fucking useless this past week because his brain is in every-which direction. Elder Shasta is acting like the biggest disgrace is that she was lied to and not that someone is _missing_ , and we’re supposed to just accept that the High Council will make their choices at their pace because we left their dominion? It’s bullshit, Walt.”

“You really liked Brad, huh,” he asked with a small smirk pulling at his lips. “He seemed cool. More together after everything than I was.”

Walt had recently started to gain control over his emotions again. He had possibly one of the roughest adjustment periods the Clan had witnessed. It had been a mixture of the shock of the new world, the sudden change, and the crashing news of the dramatic few months for the Clan that had been his downfall, not to mention he was young. Walt was one of the younger Weres to come into their powers, and with his entire time in the supernatural world being wrought with conflict between Packs and Clans, some of the highest crime rate months in years, and now everything with Brad, it was understandable. Within the last week, as he forced himself to step up in place of Rudy and Pappy, both who were busy helping with Nate, that steadfast and levelheaded young man who had made a great junior officer throughout training was back.

“I think it’s just different for him,” Ray tried. “He was just more embarrassed to act out because it ruined that cool dude mystique of the California guy. No one thought less of you for having a shitty transition.”

“You said you were just hyper,” Walt pointed out. Then thought about that and realized that Ray was still much like a young puppy after all this time and smirked. Maybe that had just been the man’s personality. It had been explained like another puberty. That it was like coming of age all over again, so the body was reacting to a new mind, a new set of emotions, and a new set of morals. For Walt, who had always been subtle, muted, and cordial, the sudden overwhelming feelings of an animal crowding his mind had been like a constant migraine. He had explained to Ray as if it were like standing on the edge of a cliff with no safety rope and only seeing a sea of water and jagged rocks below. The slightest jostle sent him teetering closer to the edge, and moments like Nate being outed and Jake assaulting Brad had been two such moments.

“We’re all different,” Ray replied easily before looking back out their window.

Unlike Nate, Ray lived in the city. He had an apartment that he shared with Walt. It was a small one, much like most in the city, and the walls were stained with cigarette smoke from old tenants. When he moved in, his mentor had acted like it was a tragedy to live there, but it suited him. It suited Walt, who had been why he moved at all. Walt never wanted the big sprawling houses or nice penthouse suites like the other, older members had. Their years of building up money had paid off, but for Walt, that had been uncomfortable. And Ray found there was no length too long for his patience. They moved in and each night, they watched the world move by in streams of lights through busy streets. The noise of neighbors and visitors alike bounced through their halls, but it always felt comforting. Warm. It was home.

“What do you think will happen,” Walt asked Ray as he sat beside the man on the floor. Ray looked over.

“They go to Scotland next week. Present the case to the High Council and they will decide what happens next. The Mercs will be held in the Catskills by some available clan members. Until their sentence is delivered.” He shuddered. Ray knew it was death. “The best we can do is keep up the lie here and try to keep prying eyes from what is really happening.”

“That’s why Cass is at Brad’s now, isn’t it? Social media, emails, and paying the bills.” Ray just nodded and Walt sighed. “What have we decided?”

“Training for Wynn. He is somewhere for some SWAT training. And Nathaniel has a family reunion in Scotland.”

“Convenient.” Walt ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “Why, though.”

Ray blinked then shrugged loosely. “We don’t even know who this Jordan fucker is. For all we know it’s some dick who made his own clan up. He wants Brad as a slave, most likely for sex. And probably his bitch ex-girlfriend was supposed to get them together, but she miscalculated on how getting hitched to Jake would effect Brad.”

“What, that he’d just be okay with it and pretend that it’s fine?”

“Walt, he saw his boss naked in a bear trap in his backyard and acted like that was fine at work. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would have gone on being merry and gay until something else tipped him off. Fuck knows what, but at least now he can get rescued.”

“You think the High Council will care enough?” Ray sighed. “He’s human, Ray. Even Nate’s not that important.”

“No. We’ll just spring him. Or he’ll do something fucking crazy and spring himself. You know the fucker climbed Mount Shasta with a broken ankle just because he didn’t want to miss out on it? I doubt some ancient prick in a mountain cottage is going to hold him back for long.”

“You’d break tradition to get him out,” Walt asked with humored disbelief. The smile on his face was bright and the streetlights looked like stars in his eyes. Ray smiled back.

“Anyone in the Clan. We don’t leave each other behind, homes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of set-up, I promise. Thank-you for the kudos y'all <3!


	3. The Old World

The plane ride was hell. Nate felt like his skin was crawling. The pain and primal rage had subsided thanks to time and distance from the pressure of too much emotions in his mind. He realized, now, why so many super naturals preferred to be Tied to people they had no connection with. It was easier to be with someone in the community. And it was easier to balance the emotions that came with a Bond when that desire wasn’t there. Nate found out the hard way why his fate had been dangerous, and why Elder Shasta had been so against him taking on Brad in the first place.

When the man first stood in the precinct, Nate had felt tossed sideways into a river. At first, he thought it was because of the kicks he had received and the possible concussion he had suffered. The next day, however, when the man had challenged the order of a private meeting, it drew his attention further. He was steadfast, unwavering, and seemingly indomitable. Moreover, he was beautiful. Nate had not seen someone like him in decades, and it pained him to ignore the man in front of him. Wholly so touchable yet out of reach. Every day working with him, every time he listened to the man spar with Ray, and every time he put in the extra hours because work had to be done and others had families made Nate fall more. When a threat was against his safety, there was no chance in denying himself the right to protect him. And he would have happily given his life to spare Brad the fate of death.

Wynn had always told him that his heart would be the death of him. And Mike was not exactly wrong. It was his heart that lead him into three wars for the country. His heart that led him on a stupid expedition for a missing shifter in Sweden. It was his heart that brought him to work as an officer rather than some menial job. He had so much more strength than the regular humans. And unlike so many of the old ones, Nate had not lost his love for the simple humans that walked about. He had enough violence in him to take down a threat and not feel pain or guilt, but he was not one who could see innocent people suffer. He was faster, smarter, and stronger than others with better senses. Much like the younger super naturals of the Clan, he still wanted to use that to help the deaf and senseless humans in surviving. They had become far too deadly on their own.

He, and much of their Clan, had adapted and changed in New York. It was difficult not to with the ever-evolving world they were in. Every new Were or shifter brought in, and every new incident cleaned up, Nate realized how detached the Old World had become from the real one. High Elder Shasta, a woman he revered and praised, had become such a symbol of that lack of change. She stood never changing in her cabin in the forest, surrounded by traditions and beliefs from when she moved from the Old World to the United States as a watcher of the kin. To her, everything was sacred, and no rules were to be bent. And in her reign over New York, there had been so little to cause issues that the woman never found the need to address it. Until Brad.

They had two days to prepare their arguments once the leaders arrived in Scotland. The digital versions of their evidence had been sent ahead while physical ones were stored on hard drives in their luggage. A third set had been secured in an off-site server that only Shasta and Josh knew about. Along the way, Mike and Elder Shasta coached him on this new set of traditions. On how to speak with the High Council. On everything needed to keep in mind when discussing the life of a Tied human. While they were important and precious, to the High Council, he would be replaceable. Nate could Bond again, should Brad die, after all. And to them, his emotional connection would mean nothing as it had only been seven weeks since they were joined. It was fledgling and new—useless to their minds. He had to present the facts that mattered. The broken oath, the lies, and the crime of kidnapping. The threat of Brad’s future was the last to be brought up outside of the mercenaries. They’d be killed off without question, unless those questioned held some higher purpose or skill set.

Along the way, Nate could only remember the flash of warmth he had before everything shut off and the static returned between them. It was like a candle in the dark for his mind. What he held onto when the anguish and rage had taken him. That thought of Brad’s to reach out to comfort Nate, even as he was kidnapped, had been what brought the man back from his primal instincts. His fit had subsided, remembering the way Brad would watch Nate when he was not sleeping enough, or how he would always make enough coffee for the second cup Nate always claimed he did not need but drank anyway. It had steeled his resolve to not let the man go into slavery for an elder.

“And what do we do if they deny our request to head to their lands,” Rudy had asked as they packed everything up. He was the only one of the Clan with a newer bond. Pappy, who had accidentally found out had also been his former partner in the field. They had been close friends, so the option to not Bond and Tie had never been conceived. Pappy had been the bigger asset of the humans for Nate. Josh had been around too long and had long lost his true touch with humanity through Shasta’s bubbly disregard for their sensitivities.

“I don’t know,” Nate had replied solemnly. “But I can’t let him suffer there forever.”

“You heard the werebears. Jordan wants you captured and imprisoned. How do we know you’re not going into a trap regardless?” It was Pappy that time, his slow and gentle voice rang out like a soothing lullaby.

“I don’t.” Nate had been honest. Only a fool wasn’t in times like they were in. “But I can’t give up on him. I don’t think I could sever this even if he died.” And it was that admission that made Rudy look up. Nate could remember the sympathy and pain that had laced the man’s chocolate eyes. He had always been fiercely protective of Nate, like a big brother. He saw Nates bullish habits as both endearing and worrisome. But then, it was not that risk-taking behavior that had worried the man.

“Nate,” he had breathed. “How long have you known?”

The question had not been answered. Both because he did not know what Rudy meant, and because Shasta had bustled through with her usual energy now turned frantic and controlling. It was the look in his eyes that had followed Nate through JFK and into the air. And it followed him through border patrol in Edinburgh. The question rang with Nate as they rented their small SUV and drove up into the Highlands, toward the home of forgotten legends and lore.

“Nathaniel,” Shasta spoke. He looked up from where he sat in the back of the car. She was the one driving, as Mike never learned to drive in the United Kingdom. “You can’t get lost in your sorrow now. We have so much more important things to worry about than just Brad’s safety.”

That was a shrill and cold comment that earned a dark glare and no response. He had spent far too much energy yelling over the last few months that it was all spent. A rage and confusion that had flooded him since the day he had found out Julie trashed Brad’s house had been there nonstop. And it seemed only after coming back to himself that the man realized that rage was a bubbling, dangerous layer that Brad had tucked away in his soul. Nate was never one to blow up in such an exhausting fashion. His outbursts had been alarming to the Clan, even Mike who had seen him at his worst.

“We will tell the High Council that he was kidnapped, that the Logans had made an oath to not harm anyone and had harmed him, and that they had come with ill intent both before and after learning he had become connected to you. That should suffice, especially with their admission on tape.”

“And what about Jordan,” Nate asked. “ _You_ don’t even know who he is or where he is located other than California. A state the size of the lower half of the Eastern Seaboard. By now, he could have had Brad for two weeks and has been breaking him in whatever way he needs for the man to submit. Won’t they care about that?”

“You need to understand,” Shasta started. Her normally bright and unsettlingly cheerful tone with dark topics now gone. “The Old World is different than what you know in the States. No one minds if that happens to someone, so long as the taken isn’t Tied to another super natural. Brad’s fate is unfortunate and I do feel bad. But it’s not important.”

Not important. Nate wanted to rip the car door off with that phrase, but instead shut it with so much delicacy the aggression was clear. That was all he had learned about the Old World that he had been taught to praise, love, and respect his long life. That honoring the old ways was what the super naturals did. But he was seeing more and more that there was no hope for change without a bigger cause for it. The Ancient Ones in the High Council had lost their decency and touch for compassion and understanding in their age. They were detached and completely useless to those they governed.

Nate stomped into the small stone cabin and shut the door to his room. It was small, damp, and lonely. He tried to remember what it felt like when Brad had pushed that warmth in past the rage. Had he felt that Nate was on the way? That he had not been abandoned? Why did he think Nate needed comfort when he wasn’t the one in danger? The man dropped heavily on the bed. A moment later, the door opened and Mike let himself in before shutting the door.

“I’m not in the mood to talk, Gunny,” Nate told him weakly.

“Then how about to listen,” was the response. It was still soft and fatherly, but stern enough to make Nate look up. “You need to ignore Shasta. She’s never been challenged before now, and she can’t grasp that people went against the rules and traditions she has kept in place. She forgets not everywhere in the world is stuck in their ways.”

“And what about Brad? I need to forget him because he’s replaceable to everyone else?”

“No,” Mike replied with his brows knitting together. “No, we’re not going to abandon him. You need to stay focused on what will get you the permission to go after your boy. You’re a leader, Nate. The men need you focused, because every one of them back home wants to be in California combing the land for you. They want your Brad back. You just have to play the game long enough to get the Council in your corner.”

“How? Lie through my teeth and act like I am not dying inside because he’s gone?”

“Yes. You haven’t survived this long without learning how to compromise. You go in there. You say what they want to hear. You give them those big, earnest eyes, and you make them see how those in California have besmirched the Council, the Laws, and the Rites. You get your Blessings, and you return with the Rites of War.” He sighed and looked at Nate. “How long have you known?”

That question again. In the same pitch that Rudy had said it, sad and soft.

“Known what, Mike?” He just got a sigh in return.

“That’s what I thought. Rest. We start planning tomorrow.” He then got up and walked out the door.

When it shut and Nate was left alone to his thoughts, he reviewed that question. How long had he known? Nate remembered vividly the moment his eyes met Brad’s. He had drawn himself to full height to see over everyone else as SWAT uncuffed him. That sensation. He had always known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition is done! Soon, things will actually start happening. Sorry for the slow start. Thank-you everyone who is reading and for the kudos <3


	4. The Council

The hall was nothing more than a tiny stone building that had acted as the town’s meeting building for centuries. When Elder Shasta entered before Mike and Nate, she was greeted with a kindly-faced woman who looked to be in her thirties with golden curls pinned back with a clip. She wore a warm, chunky sweater of beige wool and looked as though she were not shocked to see three strangers walk into the small town. She immediately started to speak to Shasta in a language even Nate did not know, which meant an old form of Gaelic or Norse, then stood to lead them to the back room. In it was a door that looked to lead to a washroom but opened to a stairwell that lead down into the basement. Nate lagged behind as they had told him to. He was the youngest and the one who held no official standing in clans or their leadership tiers. Wynn walked in the middle with Shasta up front.

For two days, Nate had learned he needed to swallow his ego to get what he needed done. They coached him through this rarely seen set of order and officiation. Most pack leaders never step foot into the High Council’s chambers in the Old World. Even fewer do it on their request. Mike had been, as always, his best handler and instructor in this. He explained the way to speak, how to address his concerns, where to stand, how to hold himself. There were times when Nate felt what little ceremony Elder Shasta had made in their world was ridiculous, but Nathaniel realized she watered it down heavily. It was as though there was no understanding that it was no longer the 8th century. Every time the question bubbled in his mind, he felt as though Mike had been reading his surface thoughts and felt the eyes of the man on him.

The stairs led into another hall with various doors. According to Shasta, some of these would be chambers for meetings, for Rites declarations or appointments of new Elders. Others were cells for prisoners awaiting their fates or the records rooms. At the end of the hallway was a set of double doors made of a dark metal and wood. They looked to be ripped from a castle’s battlement. The blonde woman knocked, and the doors swung inward slowly with a deep groan. In a way, the sucking sound felt eerily similar to the last breath of someone ripped from their chest. And Nate tried hard not to think of that as he walked into the dark room lit only by torches and a great fire in the middle. When the doors slammed shut again, they all moved as one, casting an eerie shadow on the walls.

Thirteen stood before them, all of varying European descent. Most seemed to be Anglo-Saxon, Brit, or Celt in origin with a towering toe-head or two who could have been Scandinavian. Each was dressed in all black with thick fur-lined cloaks clasped with an intricate metal broach and high gloves. The youngest still looked to be in their late thirties to forties, and that truly showed their age now. The eldest had sharp blue eyes that stared through the three who walked forward. His ash-brown hair seemed to have in it flecks of gray. He stood in the center of the semicircle the Council created. It was silent and cold in the room made of dark stone lined with off-white granite.

“Hail,” Elder Shasta called out to them with her hand raised, palm toward them as though she were pressing it against an invisible wall. “We are humbled to have our case brought before you, Councilors.” When no comment was made from their hosts, she continued. “We come from New York with a case of oath breakers who intended harm and illegal activity who willingly went against bonds and agreements to the Elder of the land in service of another Elder. On behalf of not just Gray Warren, the clan who was attacked, but their alternate leader who was the victim of a Bond-napping, I ask to present this case and gain swift judgement before deciding our actions.”

At length, the gentleman in the middle spoke in a raspy smoky tone. “The Council has heard the story and has reviewed the tapes, young Elder.” Shasta visibly shrunk at the term. “While the matter of the missing human and the oath breakers is unfortunate, we took this meeting on grounds of your ability to provide information on an Elder who went rogue and vanished. Tell us what you know of Elder Jordan?”

Silence fell and the two oldest stood in silence before Nate looked at them. He licked his lips and looked forward with his eyes burning at the older man, pleading for permission to speak if his betters were not willing to explain. At length, the Councilor nodded to him.

“I am afraid we haven’t much information, High Councilor,” Nate explained in a crisp voice. “From what was discovered by our neighboring packs and clans, the Elder is in Southern California, far enough from the water that the ocean packs and clans don’t know him, but near enough that he had known both the oath breakers and the human, who resided in Oceanside and Los Angeles.”

“You are the shifter who lost your Bonded human, correct,” another voice asked. This one sounded lighter and more shocked than anything. Nate turned his head to find the speaker younger then the first by centuries with large, watery blue eyes.

“That is correct, High Councilor.”

“Are you not going to ask about that retribution? Do you have no plans on vengeance?”

Nate looked at Shasta and Wynn. Both turned their heads slightly to bare their necks at the Council. They had given Nate the floor to speak with that simple gesture. The man swallowed, licked his lips, and continued in his clipped and short tone.

“We have no plans,” he explained. “We were instructed to come before the Council and present our case for it to be decided on. As the High Councilor stated, the note of importance in this meeting is High Elder Jordan, so that is what I have focused on rather than distract from the topic.”

“And if were we to permit you to investigate this further,” the first Councilor asked, “what would you do.”

“Gain information on the Elder and give what is known and ask for timely responses so he does not disappear off the radar. If he has been avoiding the High Council, that means he has used the proper protocol to his advantage. I believe, Councilors, that he has abused what has kept our community scared to get away with breaking code and tradition.”

There was a chilled silence in the air. They did not like what he said, but Nate stood his ground. He watched back as the Council seemed to wait for him to bow his neck in submission, but he stood firm. He needed them to understand that this waiting two weeks had wasted so much time that could have been better spent actively moving. That they cannot wait a month every time new information was received. The silence hung longer before a sigh was heard and the first man spoke again.

“Bold of you,” the man stated, “to not back down from the challenge. Were you not sound in that assumption, we’d have you executed on the spot. However, we feel that the need to locate Jordan and his unaligned tribes. We give permission for Nathaniel Christopher Fick of Gray Warren, under the watch of High Elder Shasta, to investigate the actions of Elder Jordan in California. We will reach out to the major California clans to send a representative or two to your coast to aid with this.”

The three bowed their heads in appreciation.

“Your tickets will be purchased to leave tomorrow at midday from Edinburgh. You are dismissed.”

Nate had felt the anger from Elder Shasta the entire way back to their cottage. He knew she was mad because he had broken tradition by not stepping down from his argument. And that by challenging them, he also overstepped her desires. But, at the same time, he knew submitting meant they were losing more time. They could not wait another week for the Council to decide on what to do if they had any hope of catching Jordan and finding Brad. Who knew what else the Elder was up to in those hills? He had made it into the main house when the ice he felt from her bleeding into the Net had tried his patience for too long. He turned sharply and met her eyes.

“If you have something to say Elder Shasta, have out with it. Lord knows you never bite your tongue,” he clipped out. She regarded him with shock that was quickly replaced by anger.

“Learn your place, child,” she cried out at him, but he did not flinch away.

“From what I remember, you were the one who submitted and allowed me the grounds to speak. I did _exactly_ as I was told to and stayed in my place until it was clear that disregarding the elephant in the room was pointless and dangerous.”

“You do not tell the Council how to run this community,” she yelled. Her voice rose higher, yet his stayed level and even. It was far easier to argue now. “You have become far too self-righteous since gaining a Tied human. Perhaps it’s best that he was taken away.”

A snarl ripped from Nathaniel’s chest and he pulled himself to full height to look down at his Elder. And for the first time that he’d known her, the woman looked slightly frightened. Good. She may be older, but in this form, age would not make up for the fact that Nate was far stronger than she was.

“You have forgotten what it’s like to have respect for mortals,” he told her. “To you, their lives are fleeting, pointless, and in the way of our community being free. You seem to forget you have one Tied to you. And you have to respect their world because they’re animals just like we are. You are no better than a human just because you live for centuries because you can still die like they can.” Nate looked her up and down for a moment. “Had I said the same thing about Josh, you would have ripped my throat out, so I demand the same respect for Brad from here on out. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m the one working with the High Council on this matter, and you are an overseer, now.”

Nate held her gaze a moment longer before heading back out and to the room he had around the back. He did not hear Mike follow, but felt he was doing damage control of what happened. As he walked, he felt a soft petting in his mind and froze. It was an unfamiliar touch on this Net, but he allowed it in all the same. A voice joined his mind, steady and even.

 _“Now, that was dramatic,”_ it chided lightly. _“I’m here on the call of the Council. I wanted to tell you I was in your room before you opened the door and tried to attack.”_

Nate had his hand hovering over the doorknob for a second before opening it up. Inside was a man who looked about Mike’s age with thinning brown hair and dark eyes. He was on the chair with a folder. He smelled of a shifter, far older than even Shasta had been, but he lacked the absent look of the Ancient Ones he had just been around. They were still warm and genuine as though his long life had not taken away his love of living. The man shut the door and sat on the bed he had claimed for himself and waited.

“Nate,” the man started lightly. “I have to say, you should know that the next time you defy the Council, you will be put to death.” Nate opened his mouth to defend himself, but the man raised his hand to pacify him and continued. “I personally am in agreement with you, which is why I am not on the Council, I instead and an Inquisitor. I handle the matters the Council find too taxing out distant to handle, such as the case of your mercenaries and the oath breakers. They did not forget them, but they are small matters in their minds.”

“Are you the one who will help me get in touch with the California clans who knew the Logan’s?” His voice was politely neutral, but he bubbled with hope.

“The clan the Logans belonged to sent two representatives already on behalf of High Elder Barrett. They landed today and should have been to your precinct already. I’m here to find out more than what is on the tapes and testimonies sent over so the Council had debate on the punishment of the Logans, the mercenaries, and Jordan while we look for the Elder.”

Nate began to explain the story as he remembered it. The Inquisitor only paused him once the whole time to ask, “Why do you think Jordan was so concerned about finding Bradley Colbert? He has no Spark or Essence, correct? Can you think of anything significant?” After a moment of trying to find any reason other than the superficial the man would have known, Nate flushed red as he admitted that Brad was exceptionally gorgeous. And it may have been that fact Jordan obsessed over. He was relieved that the man pressed no further on the topic and let him continue. By the time he got to the night of the run, Mike joined and nodded at the man and filled in where Nate forgot or was not present for the situation.

An hour later and a notebook filled, the man stood and nodded. He handed them both a business card with a cellphone that had an American number on it as well as an email address. Two things he was not used to higher community members honoring. Nate put it in his wallet and looked up at the man.

“Inquisitor Patterson,” he asked before the man could leave the small room, “I did the right thing, yes? Pushing this to move faster?”

Patterson smiled at him and looked at Wynn, who nodded. He had a feeling the two men knew each other vaguely.

“For the sake of Mike, don’t do it again, but yes. Elder Jordan evaded punishment three hundred years ago by jumping on a ship to the American Colonies and then traveling north into Canada, where the Native shifters saw him as an invading Skin Walker. He moved around as a ghost until the expansion west and moved in and out of our radars for the last hundred years. But you’re right. Every time we’ve found him, it was several weeks before we were allowed to go after him, and by then, he’d slipped away. The Council is old and forgets that not everyone cares about tradition anymore, especially when it’s not beneficial to their desires.” Patterson nodded and left quietly.

Nate turned and looked at Mike, who had pinched, annoyed features. Nate cowered a bit and felt guilt pooling in his stomach.

“Gray Warren may be removed from the Catskills after that outburst,” Mike warned him. “Shasta is not pleased to have usurped by you, then ignored by the Council.”

“Mike—” he started and stopped. “She’s required by the Rites I was given to oversee my actions. She removes Gray Warren before we return to Scotland with Jordan dead or alive, she has to answer to them.”

“You best hope this doesn’t come an internal conflict as well. Gray Warren will fight on your side for this, but the rest of the groups may side with her. I’ll keep an eye on it for you. You focus on finding where they are.”


	5. Captive

Brad was not sure how long they had driven to get to where the final stop was officially, but it had been long, silent save for other cars, and dark. He was in the back of the van, still, and there were no windows into the cab of the van. He had been shut in, still bound and tied to the framework and stayed there save for the one time he had been permitted out on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere to have a restroom break. He had been on a leash when they did so, and it was then that Brad realized he did not have the gold necklace on anymore. It had been removed at some point while he was unconscious. They had no desire to accidentally touch it, so it should have been obvious they’d get rid of it.

When they did stop, it was nearly dusk. The open, fresh air and towering shadows told Brad they had driven many miles north. They were in Redwood country. Central California or more northward. It was still too warm and dry for it to be closer to San Fransisco than Los Angeles, but that county was long gone. Brad assumed that the man had been more localized, but it seemed that in an attempt to avoid capture or being spotted, he had moved. That, or much like Nate, he had places all over, and this was a secure lodging for whatever training Brad had before him.

The misery of the situation was not enough to make him miss the beauty of the location. He had always loved his home state. It pained him to be back for this reason. Fleetingly, he wondered how different it would feel if he were staring out over the ridges of the Sierra Nevada’s with Nate, then, instead of his captors. He had been led inside not long after to the large, sprawling cabin that was much to the same style as Shasta’s in the Catskills. The man was sensing that the older someone got, the more ostentatious their sense of style became, as if some reminder of their age and experience. That they were the betters of the world for they had lived longest. It was one of the odd habits that Nate fell into that seemed opposite of his personality. For a man so earnest and forward with his emotions, he tended to fall into the almost poisonous habits of Shasta when he felt he needed to act a certain way. Ray had noted that he had places across the world, all the ones Walt had mentioned, but rented them out rather than lived in them. Some he had never gone to in the time Ray had known him, but something stopped him from selling them outright.

Inside was a man who was not exactly what Bradley had imagined. As a man who was raised with the rule to not trust someone on the internet, he had imagined an unseemly gentlemen who practiced poor hygiene and was unhealthy at the kindest of descriptions. Brad would have even admitted he was handsome had they met under better circumstances. He was not tall by most standards, standing around Ray and Walt’s height with thick, dark hair, light eyes that were either a shade of blue or gray, and a delicate face that looked youthful if not for the sharpness in his stare. He was not fit like Rudy or Mike, but he had a decent size to him. Brad figured that was due to an abundance of food at his desire, yet like most Weres and shifters, he was not overweight. Simply hefty and broad-chested.

“My dear Bradley,” Jordan had purred at seeing him. He had been sitting in what was either a library or an over-packed study. His voice made Brad’s stomach churn at how pleased he sounded. “So much drama just to be brought here. It was inevitable, you see. But I should have known you would make it difficult for me. But Bonding to another supernatural?” He had clicked his tongue. “Jake. Julie. While you two took far too long to get to him, you’ll be paid kindly for this. I know this ruse has been taxing on your relationship.”

It was at that moment that Brad had realized their Tied humans were missing. The pair was not to be seen again by Brad in the following days, but instead the small man who showed them out he noticed infrequently. He was taken to bathe first and rest in a cell for the evening before his transformation into a better-fit charge began.

First, his scar from the Bonding Ceremony was tattooed over by a master who was brought in from a nearby town. He had also been a shifter, and perhaps under the charge of Jordan. It was covered in a black bar, though the teeth marks and the swirl would forever stand out as raised markings against the black ink. He was taken to the Clan healer, who put an herbal coating on the tattoo that had healed it in days. Looking at it, however, made him ache for when the wraps were removed, he felt the soft ping of Nate growing further away, as if leaving for Europe. During that time, he was to eat his meals with Jordan and be alone in the cell.

He had learned little about the man, only about how he had come to acquire Brad. Jordan was proud of his capture and looked at the man was a prize he had won. He learned that, as he suspected, they had met but Bradley had turned down his advances. Jordan thought he was shyly closeted and had asked one of his followers to get with him instead to lure him back. Brad kept the laugh inside, for it died now that he realized that while he had always been heterosexual in his pursuits, even thinking of Julie, whom he had found stunning, Nate’s brilliant green eyes and wry smile filled his mind as one who he would have gone with that night. All the same, Julie had played the dutiful role of girlfriend, though the extended relationship grew taxing for her. She had been with Jake for decades and they had been strained under this ruse for Jordan. He gave her permission to split with him, thinking a rebound would convince him to come home with the other man. But when the news drove Brad from Los Angeles back to his home in San Diego, Julie and Jake were then forced to keep him close and try to bring him back. Brad remembered the suffocating year in San Diego where they had hounded him at all costs before he finally sold his home and left for New York—a place they hated so much he figured they’d never come for him.

While it was not said, he figured that the extra month had been a set back that made the operation more bothersome than anything else. The names “Barrett” and “Balboa Troupe” had been mentioned a number of times, but not to him. Always to that smaller man with large blue eyes that seemed to stare and pierce through him. He was even shorter Ray but was just as slight. He rarely spoke and was in and out of the cabin with more freedom than anyone else inside. At first, exactly what his life would entail had been largely ignored and undiscussed until a week into his stay at Jordan’s cabin.

Bradley sat at the table with him, and for once they were completely alone. Again, he regarded that Jordan had seemed to go out of his way to not be the type of person Brad had expected. He had taken little company with the man, and only ever at mealtimes. Though he lived in a cell, it had been well furnished and cool. He ate well and was not held prisoner as one may expect. And if not for a keen eye and a mind made for watching his surroundings, Brad would have thought himself alone most days, even outside. But ever, there was an animal in wait. A bird or chipmunk watching for far too long. Jordan was polite and kind, as well, always respectful in conversations. But there was an edge that he noticed. His eyes were always too sharp for one at peace with the world.

“How do you find the cabin, Bradley,” he asked pleasantly and continued to eat. The food tasted like ash in Brad’s mouth.

“I’m sure I’d like it better if I were here willingly,” Brad replied dryly and he watched as Jordan gripped his spoon.

“What are you missing? You barely had friends in New York, and you abandoned your other friends.”

“The ones that kidnapped me?” Brad clarified.

“Do you miss Fick?” His voice was suddenly like ice.

There was a dull throb through his body from his heart that ached. He hated how hollow he felt. Once again, the pale face and bright smile of Nate came to his mind unbidden. The fall of his deep voice as he spoke, so much deeper than expected with how youthful he looked. The way his hair was close-cut, but the ruddy color still came through or the freckles that dusted his face. The way his face split open into a laugh with his perfect but slightly sharper than normal canine teeth showing. He swallowed hard and said nothing. Only put down his spoon. He was no longer hungry.

“Am I not providing,” Jordan asked, angry now. Brad shut down as Jordan turned to anger. “I have been trying to show you how good you could have it. Move you into my room when you are more trustworthy, and yet you think of that child out in New York? He’s gone, I have word that he left for Scotland. I am the only one who will have you.”

Brad stared forward with his jaw clenched and fists gripped hard. He pictured Ray and Walt sniping comments toward each other while laughing. The way Rudy would invite him out on jogs after work. He had friends who he did not think would abandon him. And if not for Brad himself, he knew Nate wouldn’t. Brad was not sure how, but he knew Nate would be recklass and stupid in whatever sense of honor or oath he owed Brad. And Brad realized he didn’t care what the reason was, just that he would come for him.

“I will have to break you of him then,” Jordan decided.

He stood suddenly and in a movement so sudden Brad could not react, he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to the ground with a thud then pulled him out of the chair. He let go to get a better grip and Brad pushed away in a scramble. Jordan had hold of him again before Brad could get to his feet and pushed him into the wall. The man put his finger and his thumb just under his jaw and squeezed. He couldn’t swallow or move, so he just stood and tried to focus on breathing that was becoming labored.

“I will have you if I have to destroy everything you are to have it,” Jordan snarled up at him. Brad attempted to kick his leg out from under the other man and push him over, but he collided with impossibly tough muscle. “You can’t overpower me,” the man chuckled. He pulled Brad’s head forward and slammed it again into the wall, but harder. Brad grunted.

He was pulled down for a rough, biting kiss. The man’s mouth was not gentle or passionate. It was hard and cruel, hungry and rough. Brad tried to rip away but was pinned to the spot. He was released and found that his lip was bleeding from the onslaught. Jordan licked the cut and snarled.

“This is why I wished for you to be Bonded to me. You’d be so much easier to manage if that was the case. Everything you think you feel for him would be for me. It’s okay, Bradley, you will learn to love me or suffer.” Jordan ran his finger over Brad’s bloody lip and smiled. “And if you don’t learn to behave, I will bring your pretty boy here and you will see what happens when you don’t play nice.”

Brad sat in his cell, sore, bruised and staring at the black bar on his arm. If he ran his fingers over the embossed-looking symbols, he could feel them tingle like when Nate had bit down. Jordan’s comments had shaken something in Brad that he was not proud of. That he had, in fact, been finding himself openly attracted to Nate in his absence that it could have been confused for a Bonded obsession. After all, that was what Brad figured it had been to start with. How the magic he did not understand made it possible for people to exist for centuries together without falling apart. Some of that he knew was true, but some of it had been there before. A curiosity to this brilliant man who led with such an ease and grace yet passionately. Jordan would not have had this connection to him, even if the bite was his.

A noise made him look up and he noted a squirrel standing in the cell window. It watched him carefully with steady eyes and unmoved. Brad sneered.

“I know you’re a shifter,” he snapped. “Just watch me in human form rather than being a fucking pussy creep and hiding behind your Disney woodland bullshit.”

The squirrel stared, tail twitching, then hopped down. In a moment, the squirrel was the small man he had seen a few times. He was alarmingly young. Younger than Walt, even, and up close his freckles made him seem even more child-like. But there was so much behind his eyes that Brad could not help but feel he was older and wiser than he acted toward Jordan. The boy, Jordan had said, was nothing more than hapless fool who had tried to fit in and was cast aside. That pathetic need to be accepted had him begging for Jordan’s approval. Brad figured he was one of the people who had helped in his capture. The boy blinked up at him curiously, as if waiting for Brad to continue, unbothered by being in a cell, naked, and standing over Brad’s sitting form.

“I don’t see why you’re watching me here. Can’t exactly handle this myself or break out. Can’t raise anyone on the Net.”

The boy blinked down at him still, as if he was not sure what to make of this man, twice his size, sitting low and defeated. At length, he spoke in a soft and nasally voice, but not one unkind or aggressive.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he said before looking across the room to the door on the far side. “Fighting him will hurt, sergeant, but giving in will hurt more. Ignore me better from here on out. You’re not forgotten.”

And with that he was a squirrel again and running toward the door across the room. There must have been a small hole previously or prepared. Brad blinked at his disappearance and touched the embossed teeth marks on his forearm again. As his chest ache, he felt as though the small marker he had in his mind on where Nate was located grew closer again. It was moving slow, as if on a plane, but headed back to the East Coast. He pushed through the static, knowing it was much too far to reach, a burst of warmth and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED MY CAPSTONE!!!! Back to writing fun stuff until I start my Master's!
> 
> Thank-you to my readers. I hope I can get more updates quicker now that I'm free.


	6. Reinforcements and Dissent

Ray smelled them before he saw them. It was a strange mingling of scents. Something salty and crisp like the ocean, but not like the East Coast. They had the stale smell of people who have been on planes or in a car for far too long. Like gunpowder residue and CLP cleaner, but vaguely. Mostly, it was that the pair were supernatural. One was a shifter and the other a werebear. Considering their last run in with one, he was apprehensive when he left the records room to greet these new people. There had been no word from the other coast on if they’d get any help. That radio silence had not been comforting to say the least.

It had been a few days since Nate and Mike left for Scotland. They did not have international plans, so the vague emails about their landing and picking up pointless items for the people back here were laced with more meaning than it seemed. The meeting was happening today and that they had no real clue what would come of it. That Nate and Shasta were at odds with the views on the Humans in their clans and that Mike was sick of the divide he knew would tear their small community apart. The sudden arrival of two new super naturals was uncomfortable, unsettling, and strange. Which was why he was not going to let the admissions clerk at the station handle it. Instead, he adjusted his duty belt and stepped out with his crooked smile and best attempt at light. But the faces he saw caught him off guard.

They were young. That seemed to be the new common thing in their life post-Brad. Everyone seemed young. But one was even younger than Walt and the other looked to be about his age. The younger of the pair was the werebear with a stockier build, head shaved nearly to the scalp and tan skin. He was charming and heavily masculine but with a shy “golly, gee” feel to him that Ray found oddly endearing for a type who was known for being psycho. The fact that he dressed how everyone assumed Nate would did not help any, either. The other was a lanky, pale boy with a cap on backwards, baggy clothes and his phone in his hand. He had a sharp, angular face with cheeks as pliable as Ray’s if the long, dimpled crease had anything to say about it. He was older, stood favoring one leg and was the one talking to the clerk. He had a weird, almost forced urban feel to it, but a bravado that was natural.

“I’m sorry,” the girl at the desk was saying, “but both Lieutenant Fick and Captain Wynn are not available. If you’d like, I can call down one of the deputies to pass a message.”

“That’d be great, ma’am,” the shifter said sweetly with a smirk before looking up. His face shifted from playful and flirting to one of practiced indifference that made Ray miss Brad violently.

“I got them, Chris,” he told the girl and he approached the two at the desk. At the same time, he reached out for Rudy with a gentle nudge to get him on alert.

Now that he was level, Ray noted some other things, as well. The Shifter also had a shaved head, almost as short as the werebear’s. They were both sun-kissed and had matching tan lines that gave them a reverse racoon look from sunglasses of similar make and along their jaw line. The shifter made it more difficult to notice, but the werebear’s scalp was far lighter than the rest of his face. Their hands were also darker than their forearms. These men worked outside for a living and spent a lot of time with guns. Ray’s mental map was falling together, but he was refusing to entertain the idea that they were possibly with the mercenaries. They both carried themselves tall, as well, with back straight and gaits that almost matched each other. They were close. Closer than most friends were, even after a few centuries together, but it was a silent and easy connection. He smiled at them.

“What can I do you for, gentlemen,” Ray offered as he felt the presence of Rudy again, more tense than before. His grin stayed in place, as did the two professional expressions in front of him.

“We’re just here to discuss some security for Fleet Week,” the older one offered. “From Master Sergeant Barrett.”

The name registered immediately with Ray and he nodded. They walked to one of the offices and slid in. Ray waited, as did the other two. They could hear the other footsteps coming down. Rudy, Poke, and Walt entered a moment later, having been raised by Rudy himself. Ray looked out the door before shutting it and turning to face the two men. They had stripped off their jackets comfortably and were leaning on the desk. If not for the crackling energy between them and the others in the room, the pair seemed unflustered and calm. As though this were the least of their worries.

“You two from San Diego, then,” Poke asked first with his usual head-long mentality. They nodded.

“Yeah, man, we got here as soon as we could. Barrett had to hustle us to get out here. Where’s the LT and the Cap? We were supposed to meet them after they got back.”

“They’re not back yet,” Rudy offered with a sigh. “What took your clan leader two weeks to get someone out here?”

“Leave, dawg,” the younger one offered. “We ain’t beat cops able to just take a quick break. This shit went down while we were out training in the Mojave for two months. Had to put in the paperwork to get our asses on the first flight we could. Barrett would be here but...” He shrugged and sighed. “Got a company to lead.”

The room stopped. The members of Gray Warren looked at each other and then back to the two men who were guests in their territory. A few beats struck before Walt ventured for it.

“Are you saying she did this while you were all gone,” he asked carefully. “Because your clan leader was… training?”

“We have two leaders,” the shifter started as a way of placating. “Because both of them are a bit important. But yeah, dude. She knew Top would be gone and not able to stop them we guess. From what your boy said, the plan would have had the couple gone from our reach if not for you guys fucking that up for them.”

“I’m still confused,” Ray stopped. “Why the fuck were you guys not there? Let’s start with that.”

“Deployment training, man,” the shifter offered. “Most of the clan is military-based so the two leaders stay on opposite deployment cycles if possible. Last time we were unprotected fully was when Barrett was in the Pacific and Auburn in North Africa in the forties.”

“Does that include…” Poke started, but the younger one hummed and shook his head.

“Nah, they were just civilians. Came to us from… fuck one of the LA groups. They had been with them two clans were assimilated because of the wildfires. Came to us to get away from the bigger city.”

“Or so they said,” the shifter added. “Any clue when your boy is supposed to be back, man?”

“One, he’s not a boy,” Rudy warned, but got two playful grins back. “Two, tomorrow or Thursday the latest. How long are you two here?”

“On paper?” The shifter hissed as he thought. “Two weeks? Reality? Top needs us back by Friday to go recon up in the mountains. He was hoping we could get some of Colbert’s shit to track him.”

“Where are you two staying,” Rudy asked as he flipped out his phone. The shifter did the same and poked around a bit.

“Uh, the… Hilton? In Flushing. I guess.”

“Chinatown, dawg” Poke laughed. “Nah, we got space for you two fucks at our crib. Bunk down with us until Fick gets back.”

Stafford and Christenson, the shifter and werebear, had stayed with Rudy and Pappy for the two nights. They heard from Nate almost immediately after Pappy brought them to their house. They would be home soon with permission to get information. That meant permission to help the two who came from Balboa upon their return. Beyond that, there was no way to tell what the plan was. What the clan did discover in that time was the two from California were smart, quick, and funny. They had fit in with Gray Warren naturally. They were orderly and timely, as well, checking in with their Elder after the meeting, at night, and before heading to the precinct the next morning. The pair were “battle buddies,” in their unit, and Stafford was acting as a guide for Christenson who had been adjusting to his powers for three years. Stafford himself was only 50, but had been with Balboa since the 1990s, and had been serving with Barrett through the SN liaisons since their unit deployed to Somalia the second time.

The clan were all in the meeting room when Nate and Mike walked in. Christenson and Stafford were both sitting with their phones out when they walked in but snapped to attention almost faster than the clan members itself. They stood perfectly still as the two men were followed by Shasta, who walked in looking irate. She pointedly stood away from Nate and looked out at the group. Ray cast a side glance at Rudy, who shook his head. He huffed and looked forward again. As he felt a pang of hurt and annoyance that he was left out of the conversation, he felt a brush in his mind. Warm, gentle, and comforting. It was so sudden that Ray flinched slightly. He noticed that Walt’s ears in front of him tinted red as the shock was sent back through the Net at whomever reached out. He reached out himself and snaked that same feeling back to Walt and watched with pleasure as his ears got darker.

“Gentlemen,” Nate called out suddenly. His voice was the same, darker register he used when he was acting in a position of power and not fooling around. The fact that Shasta was there could have been as much a part of it as the two guests. “We have word from the High Council in the Old World that the Gray Warren Clan has been given permission to conduct a search and rescue for Brad in California, a search and capture of Elder Jordan, and apprehension of the Oath Breakers, Julie and Jake Logan.” He paused and his green eyes swept across the faces staring back at him. “I am the acting authority on this order with Mike acting as my second and Elder Shasta acting as overseer.”

Ray felt a wave of shock ripple through him and he realized he had been holding onto his connection with Walt as their leader spoke. He pushed forward more comfort and swallowed. That explained the iciness. Normally, Shasta came through like a hurricane, taking charge of the room regardless if it was wanted or not. She had been reserved and clearly unhappy to have been in the room, which she was not given this position and, instead, it was given to Nate. That sort of undermining would have hurt her pride. If there was one thing the clan knew, it was that Shasta was proud and vindictive. She would not let this lay.

“I see we have our two from California,” he continued and looked at Stafford and Christenson. He blinked curiously at them as they stood at attention. He nodded and they relaxed slightly with their feet spread and hands clasped behind their backs. “Welcome to New York. I hope my clan has treated you well.”

“Yes sir,” Stafford replied with his lilt. “Rudy and Pappy boarded us.”

“Good, good. Do you have anything new from your Elder.”

“Yes sir, Top wants to know if you would be able to get on a conference call about the plan. He wants to talk before anyone heads out so there is communication and shit.”

“We can do that, if there is a way to set that up for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Nah, sir. Lemme Slack him and set it up, sir.” Stafford responded quickly. “You gotta time we can tell him to be ready?”

“Uh,” Nate blinked and looked at Mike then forward again. “It’s… seven over there? An hour?”

“You got it,” Stafford replied absently before wiping out his phone. Nate watched and Ray’s attention slid from his lieutenant to the shifter in the back of the room. After a second, the man simply held a thumbs up in affirmation that it was planned. Ray looked forward and caught the smirk on Nate’s face before he continued.

“We will only send a few forward to California and leave some here in case we have sighting of the Logans and to keep up appearances. I know some of you have submitted your requests through Rudy, and he has passed them on, but I will be taking those who have been closest to Brad. We don’t know what he’s going through yet, and familiar faces may be best.” Nate paused in the event of complaints but heard none. “Excellent, you are all dismissed except for our two guests, Rudy, Poke, Walt, and Ray.”

The hour moved slowly. Poke was given the rundown of how to handle the pack here. He and Rudy would be staying in New York with Shasta to handle Clan business. Kocher would be assisting where he could, as well. They would set up in Brad’s old house and make it look as though nothing had changed while going through the house and surrounding area for anything they missed. Pappy would be working the human side, tracking information, stalking social media, and potentially abusing his FBI access if need to be to see if the Logans had left the country. Nate and Gunny would be leaving last. Ray and Walt would be leaving with Stafford and Christenson to set up with the young men with their own inspection. Their cover was camping with cousins, as that was what the California boys had as their liberty requests.

After an hour, Stafford pulled out a small box that turned out to be a portable projector and started a conference call on his tablet. He had explained the entire pack used a messaging system that was completely private and invite-only, which was how they were talking to their elder, Barrett. Master Sergeant Barrett had put them in a private conversation so they could pass their documents and information back and forth away from the other pack members in case of others who were on Jordan’s side. They also had a private chat with someone who was nameless, but the image was a small cat.

The line connected and on the other side was an imposing man with broad shoulders, a stern, hard face with scarring, the same short haircut and tan lines as the other two, and he was wearing an olive-green t-shirt. He sat in a white-background room and watched the screen closely with sharp, blue-gray eyes. There was something about the dominance he showed even through the screen that made Ray realize this was a werebear. And a huge one at that. Still, his hard face warmed to a crooked, dimpled grin when he caught eyes with Stafford, who was playing with his lip, and Christenson.

“Boys,” he greeted.

“Yo, Top, how’s it there,” Christenson asked.

“Not bad. My leave finally started, so we can leave for the Sierras once you return. Elder Shasta, Officers Wynn and Fick, my apologies for the delay.”

Ray watched as Nate went to speak but was cut off quickly by Shasta.

“Apologies is what you give us after your oath breakers kidnap one of our own? What type of High Elder are you if you can’t even pay attention to the people you have in your pack? You should be begging forgiveness!” Her voice was harsh and high with outrage. It fell discordant against the growling from the two who just had their leader challenged. They fell silent with a look from Barrett, though his expression stayed perfectly still.

“Know, Shasta, that while you hide in your hills and forests, letting the humans die for your safety and protection, nearly eighty percent of my pack are active duty service members, myself included, and have been since the Civil War.” His voice was easy, plain, and sharp as a knife. There was no hiding the insult he was giving. “I was training in the desert with others about to deploy to keep this country safe for cowards like you who refuse to do something with your enhanced abilities. I will overlook your insult, but from what I have been told I don’t answer to you. I answer to the Lieutenant, who actually holds rank.”

Silence rang in the moment. After a few uncomfortable beats, Nate licked his lips and swallowed.

“Your apology is accepted, Barrett. Thank-you for sending help as soon as you could. My boys have informed me these two have been outstanding.”

Stafford and Christenson seemed to preen under the praise, which made Ray’s lip twitch. The man knew how to get people back on his side, after all.

“As for your Bondmate,” Barrett continued in a gentler tone. “You’ll be glad to know at least two of my trusted members know who he is personally, which will make identifying him easier, but we will need anything of his that has his scent. One of our own has been keeping up on the trail of a rogue pack in the Sierras, but they have been difficult to keep track of. All the old hunting lodges and vacation stays make hiding easy. He reported back last night that the breaking has yet to begin, but it seems Brad is mouthy.”

Ray couldn’t help but snort. That sounded accurate. Even more, the hope that welled in Nate’s eyes reminded him suddenly of just how invested in this rescue the other man was. How much he truly wanted the tall, Viking grouch back. Nate swallowed and nodded again.

“We’re sending Ray and Walt out with your two tomorrow. We have the tickets bought.”

“Yep, Christenson sent over the itinerary. He’ll help you set up with Slack, too, so I can get you the paperwork for your lodging here.”

“Thank-you,” Nate replied. “Wynn will be coming with me. We’ll be there by the end of the week, but we needed to stay for the Inquisitor to handle our merc issues.”

Barrett’s face lit up on that and he shook his head.

“Give Patterson my regards, he sent me an email saying he would be stateside soon. I expect to see him, soon, then. I can message you everything tonight once the boys have you on our channel. If you need anything,” he paused and looked at everyone except Shasta, “any of you, just reach out. This has our clan’s undivided attention now.”

“Thank-you,” Wynn replied with a nod.

The call ended and Stafford pocketed the projector while Christenson set them all up with the application they needed and sent their emails the invitation. Within minutes, Rudy and Nate were marveling over the organization of it while Poke and Wynn forced Shasta into working on the details of the plan. Ray looked over at Nate, who still looked like he was holding something back. He reached out with his mind privately and gently. When he felt Nate open up, Ray sighed.

 _Something to share with the class, Natey-boy?_ he asked while collecting the files as if nothing was happening.

 _Shasta may push to remove Gray Warren from the Catskills and the regional council,_ he got back. In a moment, he felt Rudy and Wynn enter the conversation.

 _What do you mean ‘remove,’ exactly,_ Ray asked cautiously. There was a pause, an obvious feeling to make sure no one else had joined.

_When I was given the permission, it was after the other two deferred to my judgement._

_Shasta lashed out and Nate put her in her place as the ranking official on this mission,_ Mike clarified. _Nate currently holds rank over the high elder, which means she may get called for replacement if she does not remove the challenging member._

 _Brother,_ it was Rudy. _You’re not actually thinking of challenging for the role, are you? You hate the politics of the council._

There was an uncomfortable pause that caused a buzzing in their minds.

_To get Brad back and keep everyone safe? Yes, I would._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my degree!!! That means these updates may happen more frequently than just on Fridays =3 Thank-you for the support and kudos!


	7. In Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note the new tag. TW: implied sexual assault in this chapter**

It had been painful.

Brad had been under no illusion that Jordan would have been a gentle and considerate lover. A number of reasons had proven that false. One, Brad had never once given in. Trombley was right, it was painful to resist, but it would hurt more not to. Two, the man was aggressive and at times more beast than man. It reminded him viscerally of how aggressive Jake had gotten at the fireside a few weeks ago, only worse. Three, there was an obsessive, possessive crazy that drove the other man with the false belief that he was owed what Brad was not giving. And finally, Brad realized that he was still, aggressively attempting to remove Nate from Brad’s mind. He had been under the assumption that this was something he and Nate had done before.

It was something that he realized never crossed his mind until it was happening. A part of him in the aftershock realized that he hated it because it was demanded. Not willingly given. That it was a man as foreign to him as the languages he spoke into his conference phone in the office while Brad was to sit with him, silent and still. The connection was that of master and servant. He had been owned in every way imaginable. In every intimate way imaginable. The only soothing thought he had through it, which had done little to ease the clawing darkness within, was this would not be how it would have been otherwise.

He had seen the calendar in passing and knew it was days before the next moon. Jordan did not actively try to keep Brad from knowing the time or date in the house. He had been moved to Jordan’s room now and was stuck there when the man was away. A prisoner in the plush, obstinance that had driven him mental in Nate’s sprawling Tudor home. From what Brad gathered, there was no traditional clan or pack that Jordan ran officially. Or, it was nothing like what Shasta had at the Catskills during the two moons he had spent there. He had yet to see a single person aside from Trombley in the time he had been at the house. No notices or calls were placed that seemed like an arrangement of members. The only thing he had noted idly in his few walks among the halls with Jordan was a nondescript door in the wall by the stairs. Most of the doors in the house were a different shade from the wooden walls of the cabin.

It was not meant to be noticed. Unfortunately for Jordan, Bradley was skilled at noticing what he shouldn’t when his wits were about him.

He also had noted that after Bradley was taken to Jordan’s room to stay, he had not seen or heard from Trombley. And while they had not been friends on any level, the strange man had become the only view of something other than Jordan. It was not until five days before the moon that Trombley was seen again.

Brad had been in the room, locked away as always save for an open window with a bar on it so he could not escape. He had been laying on the bed, unsure what else to do, when he heard a chitter. He looked up and found a familiar chipmunk perched on the windowsill, waiting to see if he was awake. When Brad sat up, the rodent came inside and shifted into the now familiar, nude form of Trombley, who sat unconcerned on the bed next to him. In the week before he vanished, they had spent numerous hours in Brad’s small cell talking. The shyness that had existed and the wonder had vanished now with a cool indifference that he realized was the actual personality of the young man. And it often struck Brad hard. How old was this boy, really, and what had he seen?

“They moved you,” Trombley stated in an almost petulant voice. He was not out of the childish annoyance stage by any means. “Figured you’d be down there until after the moon.”

“Is that normally how long the new ones are kept down there,” Brad asked coolly. He had picked up on the fact that there had been plenty others before him—enough to have perfected the snatch and grab that had happened.

“Wouldn’t know,” the boy offered simply. “Never been here for someone else. Just figured he’d try for isolation to break you.”

It was always a strange dichotomy with Trombley. His words were often in a chilled tone with a cold implication. He spoke how Brad assumed Shasta would at her age, and he like her. Instead, there was this detached notion to what he was saying—everything was an observation of life without much thought to the impact. On the surface, of course. Brad had taken to watching the young man’s eyes and saw there was confusion, fear, hope, and anger welling in them as he delivered such empty words. All while his gaze searched Brad’s and beseeched him to explain what happened. Whatever coldness he displayed naturally was not felt all the way through. And it was only by suffering their conversations at such close distance that Brad realized there was so much that went on inside, and so much that Jordan never bothered to notice.

Trombley was his greatest threat.

“He’s gone for domination, instead,” Brad explained. No point in denying it. He was positive much of the anger and confusion was the fact that his nose could pick up the overbearing stench of sex. And he had guessed, Trombley sneered and eyes flickered with anger again.

“But you resist,” the statement was soft. His form of a question.

“Mentally.” It was embarrassing for him to admit he would never be strong enough to resist physically for long. Jordan already dislocated his arm once and had made little effort in being gentler since. “You’ve been gone.”

Trombley watched him for a moment. He was searching again with open confusion. Whatever he was looking for, he found and sighed.

“I have to arrange stuff for him. Get his followers information so they can arrive. He’s in his second new place since he went for you, you know.” Followers was the word that Brad’s mind clung to.

“You bring them information,” Brad asked carefully, knowing that was not the content of his question. Before he elaborated, Trombley blinked owlishly and looked out the window.

“No service out here, Colbert. I can’t do anything up here, so I go to the nearest places I can. It’s a hiking lodge, I think, but it has WiFi.”

Brad nodded and looked out the window as well. That was what he had figured. Jordan had no cellphone from what he had noticed and did not watch television of any sort. He had no computer, and he seemed to live more outdated than any of the older shifters he had met in New York. It was all imperative to living off the grid, after all. But he also realized that whatever Trombley was doing that was on Brad’s side of the situation had to be done at the same time as when he was doing work for Jordan. He needed to be careful and most likely move from place to place to not get caught. If he had been moved here recently, it was possible Trombley was still learning where they were, as well.

“How did you even end up here, James. You’re not one of his followers.” There was no question in that. Trombley may seem shifty at best, but he was not bad. Brad knew that to his core.

Trombley looked back at him and blinked again before looking at his hands. He played with the calluses and dead skin often when he thought about how to say things. He had always been careful and never said more than he needed to. It was something he had been trained on, clearly.

“San Diego,” he offered. “By way of Michigan. I knew the Logans and had been worried about them since they joined our clan.”

That sent a lightning bolt down Brad’s spine and he shot up straight. It was an involuntary jolt and one that even shocked him. It seemed the lingering pain was still a trigger in his mind now. It may always be. Trombley had it in him to look apologetic at it, but he knew it could not be helped, so the younger man continued.

“They came to us last year, claiming the new merger of their packs up in Los Angeles County made them uncomfortable. Not all of us bought it, so our leaders were torn on them. One asked a few of us who were in between enlistments to watch them. They were civilian, unlike most of us, with no intentions of serving. It made us suspicious. When Julie kept disappearing, I started watching their comms.”

“Legally,” Brad asked, knowing the answer. Trombley only smirked impishly.

“They were talking about a person, their boss being displeased that they were taking so long, and finally a panic about someone moving. At that point, one of our leaders was out for training, he’s the harsher one, but I went to the other and asked if I could investigate this further. We staged a reason I was kicked out of the clan, which he explained to some of the others was fake, and I went with my information to the couple as blackmail and asked to join their actual group. Julie went to New York for you, and Jake took me to Jordan’s first place that I knew about.”

“And so, your clan knew I was being hunted,” Brad asked with a hint of anger. His eyes grew cold, but Trombley was unfazed.

“No reception,” he reminded Brad. “Auburn gave me a phone, but out here, I couldn’t get service. We moved right after, so I spent much of the first month trying to find a hiking point to warn them. By the time I did, they had been labeled Oath Breakers and not returning to Balboa. I told them all I knew, which was not much, and we were moved again to receive you.”

“Why did you have to move again?” Brad asked, though he figured it was due to the banishment of his ex.

“Barrett came back with about half the clan. He’s a better tracker than Auburn. Jake must have given Jordan a heads up I didn’t notice.” Trombley paused. “I still have only a vague idea where we are now.”

“Is it likely they’ll charge here?” Brad asked, suddenly worried. He had a bad feeling about an all-out assault, even if his clan seemed to be military based and his own were police. No one but Kocher has worked SWAT.

Trombley hummed negatively and shook his head as he bit an old cuticle. “Second morning of the moon is the best time for you to try and slip out. They’ll be still high off the endorphins of a shift. Jordan normally stays in the basements during that time. They’re mostly feral, so he knows bringing you down there is dangerous. He’s learned.”

Or, in fact, Trombley had been told this as part of the plan. Brad swallowed and looked around the room. The windows were barred and locked doors from the outside. If Trombley was due to stay in the basement with the rest of the pack, he had no idea how to escape now. He turned at the feeling of a piercing gaze and swallowed. Trombley was watching him curiously, still, as though he were waiting for Bradley to catch up with his thoughts. The boy had been able to roam the cabin more.

Then it struck Brad. He wouldn’t be in the house. It wouldn’t be safe. He’d be back in the holding cell in the other building—away from the pack. As his own eyes cleared from the confusion, Trombley grinned and went back to chewing his nails.

“If your boy is within a few hundred meters, he’ll smell you quick if you keep getting excited like that,” Trombley told him with a grin. He then froze and his face tensed. “I have to go,” he said carefully. “The next time I see you I hope is with Barrett and the rest of Balboa.”

With that, the pale, freckled boy once more became a chipmunk and scurried out of the room. In a moment, Brad realized more what that meant. Jordan would know Trombley had snuck in. That’s where the attention would be focused. Trombley was drawing enemy fire to give Brad enough cover to escape. His feral pack would be looking for a needle in a haystack, however, and hopefully falling into the waiting maw of this Balboa clan. And hopefully into Gray Warren as well.

That thought brought forward with alarming detail the pale and impossibly green eyes watching in open earnest. The slip, confused part of his lips and crinkle in his brow as he watched Brad overthink things. He hoped those eyes would be waiting for him. But they were pushed away to a safer place where those thoughts belonged. He had centuries to unpack what he felt every time those eyes returned to him. As it stood, he had five days to plan how to escape a cabin of super naturals in the woods he had never explored. And for once, the pumas and bears were not the biggest threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, it was my b-day I can post two chapters back to back. Happy Leap Day!


	8. The Search

Nate was not sure what he thought Barrett had meant by camping out, but this was not it. For some reason, the idea of super naturals who had the access to comforts in the world camping had never crossed his mind. They loved the forest—he loved the forest—but it was always through the windows of a cabin. Perhaps he had gotten old and detached in his comforts of New York City. A part of him scoffed at how traditional he thought his world was as he dropped his bag at his feet and looked out at the tent city set up across a few sites that Barrett and Auburn had purchased for the run and the following week. This was one of six locations Balboa was stationed at with nearly three-fourths up in the Sierras. The last portion stayed in San Diego with Auburn, who had decided to hold down the fort there in the event of emergencies.

The trip to California had been strange to say the least. The man had no issue with planes, but the shorter trip to California had caused him more anxiety than the one to Scotland. Mike had been in the row ahead of him and was a constant soothing pressure in his mind. They debated the possibility that this was a rouse, that they were going to a trap, or worse. They also pondered what would happen back home with the territory all-but unguarded with only Poke, Pappy, Rudy, and Cass as the main members around to protect the grounds. They knew Kocher was willing to stand up to Shasta. They had the man over to explain the situation. They would be missing the run, after all, and someone needed to explain it to the others where they were.

Meeting Barrett had been another shock. He was every bit of the bullish man he appeared on the screen and over the phone. His stout figure stood out among the public, even if his scent was not strong and dominant. The man held the same calm and reserved humor and authority Mike always showed. He spoke in a short, laconic way that leaned toward efficiency more than disinterest while setting up the drive north. They had flown into San Diego, as the Logans had, and Barrett took them along what was the suggested route from their man on the inside. Someone who Nate and Mike had been given little information on. It went to the pier, then east toward the center of the state.

The drive was enlightening. Barrett was a wise, clever man with a sharp wit and a habit for gallows humor when polite conversation failed to drive a point home. It was not as bright or shrill as Shasta often delivered dark themes. Rather, the sharp tone was softened with the hint of a dimple. The layout of Balboa was better explained, their constant need to adapt to fit in with the humans they were constantly surrounded by explained, and how they’ve continued their shifts as protectors of the country made sense. For over a century, since the Civil War, the pack had been constantly enlisted in some capacity. In modern years, the need to reinvent themselves to continue the tradition but not draw attention for their youth or resemblance of their other personas in a digital age meant half the clan sat out of service for decades more and finding new employment in the FBI, Marshals, or police.

Stafford and Christenson were two Marines who were in Barrett’s company, as an example. Christenson’s first time in service was the Gulf War, but Stafford had been in Korea with Auburn, freezing in the Chosen Reservoir. Nate and Mike were able to explain their lives, which seemed so vagabond compared to the man who had been mostly stationary for his unnatural life. He seemed humored by how far Nate traveled to find himself and how often Mike had to fetch him. That the older man had not even known Nate in his formative years, and yet he was more of a father than the man who abandoned him after two decades. Between the lulls of conversation, Barrett played music from his phone that seemed to range from Bing Crosby to Ariana Grande, which he did not so much as blink when it played. Neither of them challenged it.

Now, Nate realized he was smiling at the scene before him. Their tent was to the back of the haphazard semi-circle with a fireplace in the center. A half dozen trucks or cars were parked with young men and women lounging in various locations with a buzz of conversation. Among them, as though they had been part of the clan for decades sat Ray with Stafford and Christenson. Walt was with him, though looking bewildered at the world popping up around him. Ray, of course, was practically holding court while the few around him laughed. The young man looked up and the smile on his face grew at the sight of Nate and Mike. The frantic energy of a werewolf the night of the moon was gleaming in his eyes.

“Natey-boy,” he crowed with his arms outstretched. He made no attempt to get up from the abomination of a pink, plastic lawn chair he seemed to have claimed as his throne. It was only with the movement that Nate noticed he had a garish pair of neon pink sunglasses with orange frames on his head. He never looked more at home. “How are my daddies?”

“What the devil do you have on your head, boy,” Mike asked, though the humor was clear in his tone. Nate huffed a soft laugh out and shook his head.

“My new shades, Mike. Tell me I’m pretty,” he continued, smiling brightly as Stafford laughed. Even Walt was smirking and his ears glowing pink under the hot, Californian sun. “Everything back home good with the boys.”

“All good,” he replied easily, but there was a tightness to his eyes. Ray noticed it, as always.

Nate confirmed as he picked back up his bag and headed toward him. Now, both Ray and Walt rose to greet him with a soft brush of their foreheads together. They repeated it with Mike. They were both shocked when Stafford rose as well and bowed his head for the same greeting. One Nate happily gave to both men who had come to New York to help out. When they sat back down Nate noticed about one dozen others were about the camp—a total of nineteen super naturals at this site. It struck Nate suddenly how large Balboa had to be with those numbers. He realized this was a literal battalion of people under Auburn and Barrett’s command.

His slow response to the issue suddenly seemed far faster than it had a few hours before. Still, he followed the man to the tent where they unloaded their bags. There were three cots inside and a small, lockable storage unit. Nate looked up at Barrett and arched his eyebrow in confusion. The man shrugged and smirked.

“Real bears,” he stated lightly. “They don’t fear super naturals out here.”

The sun was setting like fire behind the trees when the small portion of the clan gathered by the fire. Stafford and Christenson sat side-by-side as did Ray and Walt. Nate’s eyes flickered at the way his two boys’ arms touched and wondered if they had even noticed this themselves. He felt the sudden pang of memory at the same posture he and Brad often had when they were leaning against his counters back in New York. The acrid taste of regret and guilt was similar to bile in his throat now. He swallowed and looked away and into the intent eyes of Barrett who was now looking concerned. Nate only nodded.

“Alright guys,” he stated before looking forward. “Here’s the deal. We know we’re out here fucking looking for Bradley Colbert. Some of us know who the fucker is, so no need to waste time on that shit. The goal is to find him tonight, that’s it. We are in one of six locations. According to Trombley, Jordan could be anywhere in a twenty fucking klik radius of this place. Don’t look for something big out here. You fucking catch his scent you fucking find me and lead me there. Don’t fucking approach or do something stupid. We got three nights of this to spread out. Don’t go alone.

“We have to worry about real wildlife out here, got it? Fucking Redman was out here hiking last year and got into it with a bear, they don’t give a shit. Never leave your battle buddy. Keep a chain of half a klik from the nearest pair. Daisy chain this mountain. Any questions?”

Nate’s only question was if the man swore that much all the time, or only with the clan. A part of him figured it was just natural now. No one else spoke up and he nodded to Nate who swallowed.

“You know who these two are. They’re Nate and Mike from Gray Warren. You’ve been fucking off with Ray and Walt, so the knitting circle knows the importance of the issue. They took his partner—” Nate swallowed dry now, hearing Brad referred to as something other than a human— “and he’s in possession of someone who Trombley says does this shit a fucking lot. We can’t raise any alarms or he’ll move faster than we can catch up. Tomorrow, Stafford will head to the lodge point to contact bases Bravo through Golf on the sitrep, copy?”

There was a murmuring of affirmatives and he nodded. Stafford stood and pulled a few of Brad’s shirts from a plastic bag and Nate felt his heart clench. His scent was so strong and rich suddenly in a way it had not been for three weeks. It was enough to almost cause the old pain to course through him again. He ached bury his nose in the soft sweatshirt he’d seen Brad wear while working on his bike a month before. His hand twitched and clenched.

One by one, the pack shifted into their forms, all fitting for the location. A few wolves, who teamed up together including Stafford with Ray. Christenson was the only bear aside from Barrett, who had held off thus far. Two set off as deer into the night with a graceful sprint. Owls took off into the night. The shrill call of wolves echoed in the woods and finally, the three of them stood in the empty campsite. Barrett’s gaze softened before she shifted into an enormous brown bear. Never before had a werebear seemed so gentle than as his beady, black eyes watched carefully. Mike became a deer and Nate a wolf.

The night was long but beautiful. The air was crisp and fresh in a way he had not felt since the towering mountains of Europe. He felt free out there, sniffing through the air. He picked up the scent of hunters, of campers like they were, and of the wildlife. The whole night, they received information from the two above as owls, who swooped within communication range every so often with updates from the outskirts of the search party. And remotely, Nate was amazed at the organization of this.

But they found nothing. The anger and pain was almost palpable when they started to head back with only an hour and a half left of night to cover their movements. Which was when the two deer from the campsite came rushing for them with one owl swooping ahead. They were in a full gallop with an urgency that made a flare of protective worry come from Barrett. He, like Nate, feared they were being pursued by a predator. When nothing larger approached, they stopped and waited.

 _We picked up the direction,_ a gentle voice pushed into their minds. _The scent started toward Charlie Base, but it was faint._

 _Nate._ That was Mike. _We need to wait until tomorrow._

Nate snarled and pawed the earth, but he knew that Mike was right. They had more information than before. They knew where to go. North. His Bradley was to the north.

Though he knew Brad was too far away, he pushed warmth and hope forward in that direction, toward the always closed and tight signature that was a scar in his mind now. He was coming.


	9. The Hunted

Brad sat watching the golden light come through the small window he had into his cell while feeling the stiff ache from the day before. It had been the moon and Jordan had shown him off as a prize to his feral pack but had forgotten that he laid no real claim to him. Brad had been left alone for a few minutes, only to find himself with a lap full of an aggressive woman with brown hair and ivory skin. She had been grinding down on his lap as he attempted to unseat her when Jordan returned. Brad could still hear the hollow crack her head had made against the wall when he had thrown her off Brad with a growl and rage clear in his face. It was then that Jordan locked him up for the three days of the moon.

A few hours before sunrise, he heard the soft sound of something dropping and found that a key had been brought to him. The lack of obvious giver meant it was Trombley. He knew the man was alive. How, Brad had no idea, but he could feel it in his core. The man had not been captured or taken anywhere. And he had given Brad the last bit of help he could in the moment. So, the man kept himself awake and listened until he heard the pack return and clamor into the cabin. They were cheerful, rowdy, and excitable. It was the end of their high and soon the crash would happen. When the sun spilled into the cage, Brad made his move.

The first few hours was the easiest. He had picked the lock and then relocked it. There was a bag of clothes that had been left for him that smelled heavily of animals, which he assumed Trombley had also left for him to change into, so he did and left his clothes in the bag before tossing it down one of the ravines. He looked at the sun and the trees for moss before moving west. He The closer to the ocean, the better. He walked along the hunting trails he had found and tried to stay out of the open as much as possible.

From what he remembered from Gray Warren, there were a few hours where they’d be resting. Four at most. So, he moved fast. He was at the base of the main hill and found some faded, wooden signs and followed the one with the tent symbol. That was the universal sign for campgrounds, which meant civilization. He had no food or water, but he would make do. He could go on nothing if need be, after all. He hiked, keeping himself as oriented to the West as possible. He followed the trails to a fork when he realized the sun was directly above him. Noon. They’d be on the hunt soon.

Brad ran. He pushed through thick bushes, purposely rubbed into the thick mud and detritus of the underbrush and the small streams he passed by. He was not sure what he was covered in, but it was strong and natural. Hopefully, that would be enough to mask his scent enough. He looked up to check the sky and noticed a hawk or eagle circling and ducked along the trees. It was a Red-Tailed Hawk, which landed, looked around, and flew off to the South. Brad did not stay put. He kept moving as fast as he could and ran when he could catch his breath. It was getting colder as it was autumn and the frost clung to the forest this high up, but Brad was too warm from running.

He had been on the move when he heard them the first time. It was a howl in the distance, but not a wolf that felt natural. It was too direct and responded to by other animals. He ran. Brad checked every sign he ran by for markers and kept turning toward the tents and firewood symbols toward campgrounds and civilization. And he could hear them getting closer.

It was late in the day when he saw the hawk again. He landed and watched Brad go under him. He could not wait any longer until the hawk left to move, so he pushed on. A moment later, the hawk landed again in front of him and watched. Three more times the hawk jumped to meet up with him along the trail and watched him get closer. Brad slowed his pace and stared up at the bird, who watched back with their unearthly sharp eyes.

 _Brad,_ he felt Trombley push into his mind. Brad could have sobbed with relief if he had the breath for it. _Left at the next road. Keep running, they’re catching up. I will try to bring you help._ and then the bird was gone again.

Brad did not wait much longer. The man pushed on, lungs screaming and legs burning in the non stop movement. At the road, he went left and ran down the bike trail. It was away from the campgrounds, which worried him, but the road was easier to take. The sun sank lower into the sky as he ran down the road until he came to a fallen bridge washed away in the rain the region had earlier in the year. Brad stopped against a tree to catch his breath. He was wheezing, shivering, and terrified. His mind froze, however, when a puma stepped into the clearing with fangs bared. The way he strode forward made Brad more worried than if it was a wild cat.

 _And where are you off to, pet,_ Jordan’s presence asked into his mind. Brad's heart seized and he pushed off the tree. _I trusted you to behave. You let a whore on your lap. And now you’ve run from me. Haven’t you figured out you’re mine?_

Brad looked over at the crack in the earth and listened. Running water. He was seeing Trombley’s plan suddenly.

_Do you think they’re looking for you? The coward is long gone. We caught his scent moving north and found his blood. Probably someone’s snack by now. You’re alone, Bradley. Come home and we’ll take care of you._

Brad stepped back toward the drop into the river. It was fifty feet down. Not deadly, but it would hurt like hell if he misjudged his angle of descent. He’s done this before, however. He knew how to cliff dive. Three more animals came through the trees, wolves of different size and species with hackles raised and teeth bared.

_You’re mine or no one’s, Bradley. This is your last chance. Me or death._

Brad gave a crooked grin—dark and daring as he looked at the snarling cat. He was feet from the edge now. “Death.” And he turned and sprinted off the edge of the cliff and toward the river below. After a second, he crossed his arms over his chest with one hand pinching his nose. His head tucked to his chest and legs straight. He entered in at an angle and was immediately sucked into the current of the water. The man did not lose his hair in the plummet and was able to get swept away, focusing his weight so he did not float to the surface right away. His lungs were not burning so much as feeling the pressure after two minutes and he surfaced. The bridge’s old structure was a distant memory in the water, and he paddled to the other side of the river, where a bird was circling overhead.

He found a thicket as the sun set and tucked himself away. He had no hope that it was safe, but he needed the rest. Brad was sore, cold, wet, and hungry. The man was determined to get up in a few hours and continue on. During the moon, he was not safe from the feral pack. He needed to find Trombley and civilization. The river would only hold them off for so long, after all. He tucked himself in for an unrestful sleep.

He woke up, startled at the sight of a stag looking at him with large, soft eyes. His breath tickled his ear, causing him to wake up. It was strange and, in his sleep-drunk mind, more than a little magical. He stared back for a moment before the fear seized him. This was a deer watching him and had not run when he woke up. This was a super natural. This may be a spy. Brad started and clamored out of the thicket through the other side. The stag did not run. Instead, he simply lifted his head to watch him climb out and stayed still, excluding his ear turning to the side. There were no other animals he noticed. However, it seemed the California shifters were more cognizant of what they became in a public wood.

When the deer turned to the side, Brad ran into the woods. He could have sworn he felt the annoyed sigh come from the creature before it gracefully gave chase. Brad ran and the stag followed for a moment before stopping, head snapped to the right and darting that direction. Brad turned to the left and ran further to escape the deer. He looked up for a hawk and prayed for Trombley, but instead found an owl watching him carefully. It hooted and turned his head as the stag jumped into view again. Brad changed his course and found a new road. He was being herded, so he stopped.

He turned to run the other direction when he heard the howls again in the direction the stag preventing Brad from heading toward. The man saw the shapes in the bright moonlight and took off down the pathway for a few minutes when he heard the wolves on the path behind him. He was about to turn and try to make a stand when a bear charged from the tree line and into the clearing. Brad’s legs gave out, shocked, genuinely terrified, and exhausted. The black bear faced up the road and stood on his hind legs before giving an echoing roar toward the wolves.

He was about to scurry away when another form darted from the shadows and on top of him. The panic struck sharply and vanished in an instant when he recognized the silver fur with black spots. It was a clouded leopard, and he was not attacking but rather purring heavily to the point where Brad could feel Walt’s joy rumbling against his chest. The large, amber eyes watched him for only a second before darting down the path away from the bear.

 _Christenson will be fine,_ he felt Walt enter his mind and urged. His voice had never been sweeter. _Steiney and Holsy should be back soon. We need to go, now._

Brad had no time to contemplate who those three were or why Walter knew them. They were not Gray Warren. And he was not even ready to think on why Walt was here in the Sierra Nevada’s at all. The man simply scurried to his feet and followed the leopard who charged down the road as fast as his legs could carry him. When the man looked back for a moment, three wolves and another puma came out to face up the road with the bear—Christenson he corrected. Two of those were probably Holsey and Steiney, he hoped. The man faced forward and ran. Overhead, the own from before swooped low and kept pace with them for another ten minutes, then flew off ahead. Walt darted to the left and Brad followed.

 _Up,_ Walt informed him and started up the cliff face with ease. Brad glared at the cat and started at a much slower pace.

His arms burned and screamed. He pulled himself up the steep path meant for animals. Walt jumped back down to keep pace with him. He circled and watched the forest around them and the path below with a twitching tail that telegraphed his discomfort more than anything. It was twenty minutes before the man reached the top and was greeted with a new set of large, brown eyes. He froze as the deer sniffed his nose lightly and took off a few yards and looked back. Walter and Brad followed the deer to a clearing where the glow of a campfire started to fill the trees.

Tents. Almost a dozen of them with cars parked all over. He felt his chest seizing again with disbelief and overwhelming relief when a bear trudged forward into the camp. He was a massive grizzly bear with wicked claws and teeth. Brad felt his body prepare to run again when he noticed the deer and Walt were not worried. In fact, Walt’s tail stopped flicking back and forth. It laid limply on the ground as his eyes turned back to the sky. It twitched a bitch and Bradly looked up as well to see a hawk land. The bear and hawk looked at each other at length.

The bushes shuddered as an animal barreled through. Bad felt his body grow weak before he even saw what was approaching as he was blasted suddenly by the Net shifting from static and emptiness to a swell of emotion and noise. The brown wolf he had seen so many times burst through with his bright green eyes blazing and locked on Brad with the intensity he had missed like a lost limb. He dropped to his knees as Nate approached and began to rub his face along Brad’s cheeks, neck, and hair, snuffling as he moved. The soft bubbling whine ripped from the wolf when he buried his hands into Nate’s scruff and tugged.

 _You’ve caused one Helluva mess, Bradley,_ an unfamiliar but short voice pushed through. It was powerful and strong like the bear before him, but hardly judging or cruel. A hint of humor, in fact, laced the words.

Brad looked up and found more animals and poured into the camp slowly with the last being the wolves and the smaller, black bear, and a black wolf that bounded over and plowed into him, knocking him away from Nate’s scenting ceremony. His tired and unused Net opened, and he felt Mike was there as well, though not in his face as Ray decided he needed to be. As Brad lay flat on his back in the camp with Ray pining him, tail thumping into the dirt, Nate’s human face came into view. He felt the wind knocked from him to see those green eyes, that full mouth and sharp nose. He looked tired, scared, and drained like he had lost weight over the last few weeks and was not sleeping. The pressure of Ray on his chest left and was replaced by the sudden realization—he was back.

“You two take my tent,” the same voice as before rang out, but vocally and not mentally. Brad sat up to see the bear had indeed become a man with a stern face that had softened into one of understanding and sadness. Brad swallowed as he felt pierced by the man’s eyes. “I think you both need each other tonight.”


	10. Reunited

Nate had smelled him long before he had seen him. The richness of his musk. The hint of fear and adrenaline. The foreign hints of animals, mud, and plants. And the lingering scent of someone else. The last of those was what pushed the man to run full sprint toward the camp. Bud had swooped by saying he was almost to camp when they turned and sprinted. It was the clear, stale smell of sex. He had been claimed in ways that did not mask the lingering scent of Nate that he found, but it had been sexual. He had noticed the tattoo over their mark. It was a brand that was meant to punish Nate more than Brad should he ever get Bradley back. A reminder of his failure to protect and provide.

When Holsey flew overhead saying Lovell and Steiney had found Brad, but he was being pursued by half the pack, Nate had told them to lead the man to camp and have it be Walter who went to him. Walt did not blend into this world and they had all explained how rare and random it was that he had the shape he did. Brad would recognize the clouded leopard better than any form that Nate could take outside of the orange tabby cat. Mike, Barrett, and Nate headed off to the campsite to meet him, and the scent of Brad had Nate feeling like he had been dragged underwater by his ankle with no hope of surfacing. He was immediately intoxicated with fury, fear, and passion.

Now he stood in the tent and was frozen unsure what to do next. In front of him was Brad, standing in his cold, wet clothing and hunched because of his towering size. His eyes were unsure and closed off, though he could feel the hopeful tendrils of the other man’s mind reaching out for comfort. Still, that jaw was set and the muscle clenched and relaxed in the dim lighting from outside. Nate, himself, was naked and standing with his arms uselessly limp at his sides and eyes darting over his face. He wanted to pounce. To hold Brad down and promise him it was over. But the man had also been traumatized. He did not want to trigger anything with his rash hope.

After a moment, his hands twitched, and the man moved to the small chest his clothes were in. The tent itself was more of a boy scout tent than the domed one he expected when Barrett had told them the plan. Both men were still too tall, but at least it was marginally more comfortable. Nate fished out two sets of shorts. He pulled on the first and held out the second toward Brad. When he reached his hand out, palm forward, Nate tossed it. Brad caught it easily. He waited for a moment before peeling off the wet clothes and tossing them to the ground with a wet _slop_. Nate turned his gaze around and tried his best not to catalogue every item that had been pulled off and cast aside. After a moment, he heard Brad’s voice.

“Nate,” he called softly. It was one of the searching, unsure tones he used whenever Nate’s mind traveled far away.

He turned and looked back to find Brad still there, shirtless in the shorts that were a bit too short for his long legs, but that didn’t seem to be what made him so unsure. His eyes were dancing all over Nate’s expression, which he suddenly realized was one of thinly veiled anger and disgust. Not at Bradley. Never at Brad. But at the moment and the situation. The necessity of what happened. He schooled it and looked down. Nate licked his lips, swallowed, and looked forward again. Brad’s face softened as well. He shifted his weight and those long arms spread a bit as in invitation.

Nate hesitated a beat. Then, he was pressed long against his body with his nose tucked against the hinge of Brad’s jaw. He inhaled deeply and sighed out trembling. Nate took a few more breaths in before his snuffling started patterns over his collar bone, neck, shoulders, chin, and chest. As his head moved on its own, instinct driving him wild, Brad’s hands ran gently down Nate’s side. He whined at the feeling and pressed closer and bit back the anger he felt at the scent of this other person on Brad. He paused before pressing his cheek and nose to Brad’s bare chest and nuzzled hard. His lips grazed over the skin and he heard Brad exhale shakily and his hands grip at his sides.

Nate looked up and found Brad’s eyes closed, head tilted up granting him access, and mouth open slightly. He watched for a second longer before dragging the very tip of his nose along the column of Brad’s neck and inhaled. The other man shuddered, and his face flushed slightly. Nate grinned to himself and pressed his lips to Brad’s throat and exhaled.

The silence and stillness hung for a moment, then Brad shocked him by moving suddenly, redirecting them to the bedroll that Nate had pointed out to him when they entered the tent. There was no way Bradley could have moved him on his own, but Nate went willingly. Brad sprawled out on his back and he crawled over him, dragging his nose along the sharp line of muscles on Brad’s torso. The man arched up, searching for the contact, but Nate stayed above him. He felt the hands return to his hips and the fingers press hard. He hovered over the other man’s face and watched Brad watch him back hesitantly.

“You keep growling,” Brad told him cautiously. Nate stopped and realized the rumble had been coming out without him noticing.

“You smell like him,” Nate explained. The words felt like poison in his own mouth. He sneered at it and looked away. Brad’s hand snaked between their bodies to guide his gaze back to his own.

“It will fade,” Brad told him, though it was more hopeful than sure.

Nate looked down at him, then along his body and the space between them. His eyes followed back up slowly. He lowered himself to one arm and let the other drag slowly up Brad’s sides and frowned at the scrapes and bruises. Some were from the escape, but some were the work of Jordan. And that made him angrier. He shushing noise came from Brad and again his gaze was lifted up to look at the clear blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Brad promised.

Nate snapped, finally. He collapsed down along Brad’s body and buried his face into the crook of his neck. He pressed and rubbed his nose and cheek along Brad’s shoulders, neck, and chest. One hand kept himself propped up aided by the opposite arm of the man below him, so his hand was free to graze along his torso. Fingers danced over his muscles. Nate lived for the way his body tensed under the soft touch.

He paused in his motions with his nose by Brad’s ear and he exhaled through his lips and froze. Nate looked down to find Brad watching him with honest desire. His movements were slow in case Brad wanted to flinch away until he pressed his lips against Brad’s chastely. He watched Brad watch him back as their mouths were perfectly still against the other’s. After a moment, Brad exhaled and opened his mouth and one of his hands pressed at the small of Nate’s back to press them together. A whine ripped from Nate’s chest so deep, it hurt. Nate closed his eyes and pressed deeper into the kiss.

It was slow and timid—barely more than the light brush of tongues and lips. He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself above Brad after a moment. He did not want the distance but knew now was not the time to get wrapped up in that sensation. Still, there was a deep swell of emotion brewing inside. And he could feel the warmth flooding through the Net that had been silent for so long. It was like being able to breath again and the first spring morning after a long, frigid cold.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” Brad said at length. He swallowed and reached up to press his thumb below Nate’s eyes. His expression pinched. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Nate snorted darkly. “No,” he admitted and pressed into the warmth of the hand. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone. They shouldn’t have let them Run with us in the first place.”

“Nate,” Brad cut off the string of things wrong with what happened sharply.

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. Nate swallowed and nodded. He knew what Brad was saying. There was no point in going down the rabbit hole of what had happened. Instead, he dropped his head down so their foreheads were together. Brad’s hand dragged slowly up his spine and laid flat between Nate’s shoulders. He sighed and closed his eyes. A snarl came out and was bit off.

“We have permission to find Jordan and bring him in. Things back home may not be great, but that’s a different kettle of onions. Even if they hadn’t given us permission, I wouldn’t let you stay out here. I couldn’t stand to have anyone trapped like you would have been. _Especially_ you.”

“I know,” Brad told him softly. “You found me. We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

Nate sighed again and nodded. Brad’s head tilted up to capture his lips in another soft kiss.

“I knew you’d come,” Brad told him. Nate rolled off to the side and slung and arm and leg over Brad’s body, and his arms wrapped around his body. “I felt you when I was taken. You trying to catch up. I knew you wouldn’t give up.”

Nate smiled and rubbed his face into Brad’s shoulder and rubbed hard. “You tried to comfort me,” he replied incredulously, still remembering that feeling. He saw the corner of Brad’s crooked smile tug upward.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

Silence fell between them and Nate pressed closer in. They shifted into the sleeping bag that was not intended for two grown men and curled tight together as the sound of the clan outside keeping watch buzzed through the night with the rest of the wildlife. The bugs clicked and birds chirped. Nate knew that meant nothing was coming. They’d be silent otherwise. And for the first time since Brad was taken, his eyes closed easily and sleep took him, but not before he heard Brad mutter softly, “I’ve missed you.”


	11. Clarity

Despite what Nate and Brad said, Ray was not jealous. It had been none of his business why Walt wanted to stay up at the campsites the morning after they found Brad. In fact, Ray would have done the same had Brad not specifically asked that he go back with the pair. Wynn stayed up at the site, too, which was also why Ray was not annoyed. He would have preferred to have Walt with them in San Diego. He wanted to know that those of Grey Warren in the state were together and safe, especially considering the pack that Brad mentioned was apparently feral. But he was not jealous.

He just hated not knowing where Walt was suddenly.

A few days after the debacle they were all back in San Diego, and Wynn had met with both Auburn and Barrett about what had happened. Ray, for all intents and purposes, was on babysitting duty for Brad. He had been checked over by Auburn, who was a naval officer and a battalion surgeon for the Air Wing out of Miramar, and had given the all-clear. Aside from superficial bruising from the roughing up he received when he was assaulted and tearing that, when described, made Nate shatter the glass that was in his hand, the man was physically well enough. He was upset, of course, confused, and exhausted. He was healthy, but they were paranoid.

He and Ray were currently sitting out on the small balcony of the AirBnB Barrett had set up for them. It belonged to one of the members of Balboa, which was lucky as it was expensive otherwise. It had four rooms, two floors, a patio out back and a balcony off the master bedroom, which Brad and Nate shared. Ray had finally stopped letting his eyes drift to the marred skin all over the other man or frowning constantly at how unfair it was that he would not get Nate’s quick healing. He looked at home, though, in his tank top, boardshorts, and bare feet. He was golden tan, and getting darker by the day, thanks to his hours in the sun healing up. Ray, on the other hand, felt his nose peeling and ears constantly itching from the exposure.

Brad had explained all that happened. The traveling, the location, the escape, and abuse. He had delivered it all with a strange, detached coldness that was abrupt for even him. He had let himself get ruthlessly interrogated by all three clan leaders, by Nate, and then by Ray himself. The man hated this Jordan more than before, but also had a better understanding of how dangerous all this was. And he was glad that Barrett had had the sense to stay up north and keep an eye on noticeable movement from the direction Trombley said the house was. No one has immediately followed, but there was the tense feeling that they were being tailed and people were on their way to New York, in case. That was why they were in a well-watched private location and not a hotel.

“How was he,” Brad asked after a long silence. Ray looked over at him and blinked.

“Bad, dude.” He admitted. No point in lying. “Pretty sure he would have done some dumb shit if he had been denied this.”

Brad swore under his breath and shook his head. “Should have trusted my instincts.”

“With what,” Ray asked. He caught a whiff of Walt returning from the taqueria Brad sent him to for lunch. The man used to run by this neighborhood and pointed it out.

“Staying that night. I knew I should have, but I was fucking terrified to.” Ray made an inquisitive hum and arched an eyebrow. “It… I’m not used to the feeling still. Needing him around. _Wanting_ him around. I understand it better, but then? Right after the run in with Jake and Julie? I couldn’t. I could handle the idea of being platonically tied to someone for the rest of my life, but there was an attachment behind it. Last time I got attached to someone who was supernatural, well.” He scoffed and shook his head. “We see how well that worked out.”

“Homes,” Ray began before looking over his shoulder. “Walt, upstairs!” He looked forward again. “I don’t think _Nate_ was ready for the attachment either. He went from like… zero to up your ass quickly. More than I think he realized, and it was only a matter of time before you freaked.”

“I guess,” Brad replied. He looked over his shoulder as Walt came in with a reusable bag from Trader Joe’s. “Hey, Walt. Get everything okay?”

“I have no clue,” he admitted. “Why the fuck are there so many options for a taco place out here?”

“Because unlike your white-washing, sterile and disappointing Tex-Mex knock off places, California knows the significance of real Mexican food.”

“Whatever, I’ll take Jamaican over this any day,” Walt declared before climbing up onto the banister and handing out the different containers. “What are you two talking about?”

“Brad’s feelings. We’re about to do manicures if you’re interested.”

“Fuck off.” Walt smirked. If not for the sunburn, Ray would have sworn the man was blushing under the watchful eyes. “Between you and Nate, I don’t know which has more guilt issues over this.”

“We’re working on it,” Brad mumbled before biting into his taco. The man audibly moaned, which startled a laugh out of the other two. “Fuck off, this place is my favorite.”

Ray bit into his burrito after laughing and a moan of his own escaped his mouth before he could bite it off. It got more laughter, but this time from Brad, but he got it. The meat, rice, and pico were what he imagined a dream burrito tasted like. And he could feel the grease pocket forming at the base of the wrap. It struck him light a bolt of lightning how much he was enjoying California and how little he wanted to go back. It felt like home out here, in a way that New York hadn’t. He loved his apartment with Walt and the different packs and clans, but he had a feeling a part of his heart would be staying here. Walt looked over at him curiously for a moment as if he felt that wash of sadness.

“So, anything important in the chats,” asked Brad. His phone was still in New York, so he needed them to keep him up to date with the rest of the news. It seemed to suit him just fine, at the moment.

“Mm,” Walt nodded with a mouth full of food before nodding and wiping his mouth. “Yeah, Garza said someone is on their way over to talk to you and Ray about some shit.”

“Garza, huh,” Ray sulked softly. But, apparently not soft enough as Brad and Walt paused halfway to their mouths and watched him.

“Wow,” Brad drawled out. “Wanna try that one again?”

“Okay, Ray, what the fuck,” Walt snapped. He tossed his taco onto the go to box with an oddly wet slap noise.

“Nothing,” Ray growled and took another bite out of his burrito. “Just so glad you and Garza are best buddies now.”

“Okay, seriously?”

“What is he whining about,” Brad asked.

“Nothing,” Ray tried as Walt spoke over him.

“He’s pissed off because I went out for drinks with Garza and Leon the other day rather than sit here while you and Nate suck face in the other room.”

“We are not sucking face,” Brad replied, offended.

“I wanted to watch the game and you three went off to get trashed as some dive bar.”

“We had two drinks!” Walt rolled his eyes and looked about ready to throw his food onto the floor in disgust. “What is the big issue with me having new friends?”

“That all it is, just buddies unable to stay away from each other?”

“Rich, coming from the guy who literally is plastered to Brad’s side.”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Brad _asked me_ to come back with him, Walt. The fuck was I going to say? Nah, dude, you got fucking raped and kidnapped but I’mma jerk off with the new guys in the mountains for a few days?”

“And Barrett asked _me_ to stay because I actually knew what the feral pack smelled like!” Walt’s exclamation caused a sudden, cold silence. Especially as they all were suddenly, very aware that behind them in the bedroom stood Barrett, Nate, and a man they had never seen before.

“Ray, Walt,” Nate clipped sharply. “Take it downstairs, we need to talk to Bradly.”

Silence fell over the balcony, save for the scratch of his chair pushing back and Walt’s feet dropping to the ground. They walked by their leader feeling the energy between them as Brad also stood. Ray looked over his shoulder quickly to watch how Brad dipped his head down to press his forehead to Nate’s. At least they had their shit figured out, he mused before looking forward and heading down the stairs. He had got to the landing when Barrett joined them with their food boxes, looked between them critically, and walked back out the house toward his truck. Ray pondered his move, but it seemed his feet took him toward Walt without any conscious thought to it.

“What is it, now, Ray,” Walt snapped, not even turning around. “I can _feel_ how upset you are. You can’t hide that shit from me and we both know it. Stop acting like I’m abandoning you because I have new people to be around.”

Ray skidded to a halt and his mouth opened and closed before lamely offering to go boxes. Walt looked at them and tried to turn and leave but Ray reached out with his other hand and quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. Walt stayed put, though he could feel his anger rolling off him in waves. Ray held his ground and waited for him to turn. Eventually he did with those normally bright and happy eyes that looked shuttered, hurt, and cold. Ray frowned.

“Ray just… say it now and let me go,” Walt asked in a cold tone. Ray winced.

“I was jealous. Of you and Garza. I thought…” he hated this pussy feeling of emotions and feelings. Christ. “It felt like you wanted people as young as you to help now that there were a few of them.”

“Ray,” he sounded… off and Ray stepped back and turned to leave. “You’re an idiot. You know that right?”

Ray opened his mouth to argue but watched as the to go boxes were ripped from his hand and tossed onto the end table near the couch. He looked up at Walt as he stepped close and covered his mouth with a soft, tentative kiss. Ray gasped slightly and hands twitched at his sides. Walt stepped back, his face scarlet from embarrassment and a shy smile forming.

“In case… you thought I was replacing you in other ways, too.”

“Since…” Ray blinked, licked his lips and opened his mouth a few times wordlessly before finding one. “What?”

“Since always,” he shrugged tightly and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “When you spent the day quoting songs at me because I was off from my first death at an accident. It was only worse after you took me on and I moved in.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we kiss again?” That got a soft chuckle from Walt, which made warmth spread in Ray’s chest and a smile form again.

“Yeah.”


	12. A New Plan

The silence after Ray and Walt’s departure hung in the air, only broken by Barrett collecting their food and following them. Nate sighed as Brad stepped away from his space. It had been the moment of calm that he needed after walking into the room. He had seen it since they made it to the camp that Ray was simmering, about to boil over. It seemed that now they had finally gotten to the boiling point and had the fighting finally started. He was worried, but he knew there was something else to focus on at the moment. So, he looked at Brad for some clue on how they had been just before. He sighed and shook his head and nodded to the balcony doors, which Patterson shut and looked warmly at Brad. Brad, for his part, looked apprehensive rather than worried or bothered.

“Brad,” Nate started, “This is Bryan Patterson, he works adjacent to the High Council.”

Brad nodded in response and took a seat on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He looked tense; Nate could feel the waves of apprehension now. It came off in rolling waves, though his face was perfectly neutral and disinterested. Had it been a few months ago, Nate would have been fooled.

“I’m here to ask about your trek from the point you left the house to the point where Christenson found you,” Patterson asked calmly. “There is no need to discuss what has happened while you were there, and we are currently in the process of finding someone willing to aid in removing your branding.”

Nate felt the rage begin to bubble at that mention again. In the days since he had Brad back, the scent of Jordan had vanished under that of Ray, Walt, and his own. However, the black band on his arm had remained as a harsh reminder of what had happened. That he had been claimed by someone else who had wanted to remove Nate from his life. That someone thought they deserved to have Brad in their lives because they were powerful. That harsh reality of who they had dealt with. Especially in the light of speaking with Trombley, who had already filled them in on what had happened while Brad was trapped.

“I’ll do my best,” he replied neutrally. His eyes looked over at Patterson than forward again. Nate sat beside him.

For the next twenty minutes, Brad recounted his journey. At first it was in reverse. His path to the river. How far he had gone down the river. The jump. The five signs. How long, roughly, he had moved in those directions. Which way he had turned as best as he could recall. Patterson asked a few questions as Brad spoke, but he nodded and took notes. He clarified on directions, asked for descriptions of the signs and the surroundings. Of the house itself and the clearing. What the view had looked like from the porch when he had left. Anything of note. When Brad mentioned the out of place door that could lead to a basement, Nate’s face pinched in confusion and he looked at Brad.

“I know,” he said. “Basements are rare out here with the earthquakes.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to try and take us back there in person,” Patterson offered when they had finished, and he put the notebook away. His eyes were still soft and warm, so different than so many elders Nate had met. In so many ways, he was like Mike. “But we may have a way to get the path found if you are willing to try.”

“Live video feed,” Brad offered. Patterson smirked and nodded. “There are a few Tied humans to currently deployed members of Balboa, and therefore will not smell like their Bonded person, as well as an untied human who is on probation, as her intended and she had a falling out.”

Nate blinked in confusion and looked at him, shocked.

“You let a person go Untied if they discover you,” he asked incredulously.

“We do when the situation calls for it. They were not compatible, and it would have been cruel to make them Bond for life. She is also a staff sergeant in the same regiment as Barrett. He keeps an eye on her,” Patterson explained.

“And the Council is okay with that?” He looked to Brad, feeling shame after everything he had put the man through following him accidentally finding out. However, he felt a wave of warmth that made his chest tighten. He wasn’t blamed.

“They’re in Scotland with more important things to deal with. I’m sure Auburn and Barrett will inform them when it matters.” His voice was breezy and unbothered, which threw Nate more. “The point is, they are willing to head up the hiking trail in question with a GPS tracker and a drone. They’ll look like normal tourists.”

“Won’t Jordan or his pack recognize them? They knew members of Balboa,” Nate opened his mouth to add more but Brad’s negative noise made him stop.

“He knew Trombley and the Logans. That’s it,” Brad replied. “If they don’t smell like anyone who was at the site, they will be fine.”

“What are the logistics on this,” Nate asked. “Have we asked about any other packs having issues?”

“Auburn and Wynn are on it currently, now that Barrett is back. Last I heard, they were in Orange County headed to Pismo Beach.”

“Must be difficult,” Nate replied solemnly. His heart beat faster at the way Brad’s half smile tugged. “When can they leave?”

“Tomorrow. Olivia and Sarah are packed and ready to leave at zero dark thirty.” When Nate nodded in response, his attention turned to Brad. “We’ll meet at Barrett’s place for the hike, but it won’t be until noon. Do you have anything for me?”

“It’s a feral pack,” Brad explained. “Trombley says they’re not normally around, but I feel if they think their compound may be under attack, they will stay at Jordan’s or prepare to move.”

“He probably won’t go back to the houses he had been at with Trombley, either,” Nate said to himself more than anything. His head snapped up and he looked at Brad with his eyes wide with a realization. Brad’s eyes narrowed and he blinked. “Could you describe him? In detail?”

“Yes?” Then Brad stopped and laughed. “You’re thinking about a criminal sketch.”

Brad and Nate got to see Stafford’s art Instagram on their way back to San Diego. He had apparently gone to school for art in two different universities in his time and did amazing portraits. Nate was confident that his skills would easily transfer over to this, especially with his enjoyment of having his work appreciated and his willingness to help. They both looked at Patterson who was thinking, then laughed and shrugged.

“He’s old enough to have been seen by people. If we get what names he’s bought houses off of, we may narrow down where he could live.” He nodded and stood. “I will leave you two and take this back to Barrett. Thank-you both.”

When he stood, the other two had and they shook hands. The man saw himself out with a youthful authority that Nate was man enough to admit he was jealous of. It was that kind of leadership and confidence he wished to have. The strength of his person to have people trust his reliability and his dedication without seeming too authoritarian or disciplinarian as Shasta had. To have the same quiet resolve and patience that Barrett had—one he always envied in Mike. And the strength of his convictions that Auburn showed every time they spoke about the unity of such a large clan. How their dedication to respect and privacy always outweighed the overbearing demands The Old World demanded. In his week among this new dynamic, he had learned more about how to be in charge than decades in New York. He sighed and turned to look at Brad.

“Barrett asked if we wanted to stay,” Nate told him, not bothering to lead into the conversation. He snorted at the shocked blinking that followed. “That was my reaction.”

Nate crossed and closed the door. He needed privacy from Ray, who avoided discretion as a hobby. He then crossed to the bed and sat down. Brad sat next to him. He felt the press into the Net again and smiled. It felt like a warm fire and a blanket. It made him think of that morning months ago when he had breakfast alone with Brad and first showed his tiger form. He turned and rested his head on Brad’s shoulder and sighed.

“You’re thinking about it,” Brad guessed.

“I am.” There was no point in lying, after all. “I’m worried about the rest of Grey Warren. There are almost two dozen of us, and I can’t ask them to all pick up and leave.”

“And you feel guilty for leaving them,” Brad finished. He nodded and thought himself. “Poke would come. And Rudy and Pappy.”

“I think Ray and Walt will have separation anxiety from the group here.” Nate smiled as Brad snorted in laughter. “I just. This feels like home, Brad. I have never felt this connected to a place. I have wandered in my soul for… decades. Almost centuries. I’ve never found that peace that said this is it. But every day I spend here, I feel like I’ve found it at least. You. This group.”

“But…”

Nate gave a wry smile and shook his head. “But.” He looked at his hands and started to pick at his cuticles. “I also know I can’t… move without certain people.”

“Mike will follow you,” Brad said with such a resolute tone that Nate believed him for a moment. “I’m sure most of the others will, as well. Or go to one of the others. And I’ll go wherever you go.”

Nate looked up at him and then smiled. That statement was something he hadn’t known he needed to hear. For as long as Nate could remember, since his original leaders abandoned him, the man had no real connection to the idea of staying in one place. He had houses all over the world that he never returned to because he knew he could not stay put. He’d probably return at some point. But in the recent decades, it was harder to simply start over. The Old World did not influence travels and work visas, after all. He felt he could do it, now.

“Fifty years ago,” Brad opened his mouth to argue, but Nate shook his and sat back down. “That was right before I joined Grey Warren. I had met Mike and had left the country to try living in the Old World for the first time. The country was… It was bad then. I guess you know better than my generation would because you were taught it, but I couldn’t live for the injustice. My original leadership, the man who instructed me on how to navigate this world, abandoned me when I started to outwardly support the Civil Rights movement. He had argued that we suffer prejudice, too. And when I argued that we have nothing compared to what others experienced, that we had the ability to remain unnoticed and unseen, while those who I marched with did not have that luxury, he kicked me from the clan.

“He probably would have done it if he knew I was homosexual, regardless, but this was his final straw. I left not long after in one of my many soul-searching adventures. I know Walt told you I have places all over, and it’s true. I’ve been trying to find home. Out there, I connected with a few other super naturals in the mountains. I was not aware at the time they were some of the less savory types. And they saw me as someone they could give as a slave like you had been. Mike thankfully tracked me down, but not before they lured me into a blizzard claiming one of the children got lost. I didn’t realize she was actually old enough to have turned and was about 40. They attacked me in the snowstorm. I fended them off, bleeding, but did not put two-and-two together that they did not also attack the little girl. I was close to death from exposure when Mike found me. He and Rudy, in fact.

“I learned that day that I was too trusting. Too hopeful. Too,” Nate paused and sighed. “Too willing to see the good in people that did not exist because I couldn’t accept people were not innately good. I came back with them and tried to move on, but it still hurts to see how evil people can be.”

He looked away and stared at the muted yellow walls with a glare. He nearly jumped at the feeling of the hand on his knee. After a moment, he gave in and put his own down.

“If I had known there were people who did not imprison those while they waited for a forced Tie, I would have given you that chance.”

“I’m glad it was you,” Brad replied. When he tried to argue, Brad cut him off. “Hey. You fought for me. When you heard what was going to happen, though you barely knew me. I had worked for you in your department alongside Ray and really saw you in briefings, on the floor, or in the locker room. I don’t know if I would trust anyone else.” He looked over at Brad and held his breath as Brad was looking at him with intensity. “I don’t want to be stuck with anyone else for who knows how many centuries.”

Nate grinned, now feeling sheepish.

“I knew I needed to protect you,” Nate admitted. “I saw you the first time, towering and beautiful over everyone else. It was like I couldn’t breathe. I was… infatuated immediately. That whole month, I needed to interact. I needed to be in your presence. And when I knew Julie was after you, it infuriated me. That someone would do that. I couldn’t help myself. I felt possessed by that need to be the one to help you.”

“Beautiful, huh,” Brad teased. Nate rolled his eyes. “You came in, bloodied and half dragged by SWAT and I needed to know who the fuck this stupid kid was. Beat to shit, looking like a cheap twink film actor.” Nate watched the small grin slide over his face. “After what you did that first moon, I knew that you were the only thing I could have faith in now that my world was upside down.”


	13. A New Threat

It was a surreal experience with how close Balboa was. Brad had not noticed it in Gray Warren. Perhaps he just didn’t pay attention enough, or perhaps it really was just Walt, Ray, and Nate who hung around together in one corner and others in groups. But Balboa was always together. Ray and Walt would often go out with at least seven other guys from the clan. Brad went surfing with Holsey and three others joined them on a whim who were not even up at the site. Nate had gone out the night before with Mike and Barrett to meet the two women who were helping them backtrack this afternoon and said that the bar ended up packed with them simply to make the introduction smoother. He would call it codependent if not for comfort that came with knowing they always had each other’s back. No one was ever left alone.

The same had happened at Barrett’s place. It was supposed to be the leaders watching from one of the rooms. It ended up being the small house filled with enough to call it a house party. While Barrett and Auburn were there with their wives, nearly a half dozen had shown up before them and another five followed. Some were there to genuinely be of assistance, such as Steiny and Holsey, both who were mild mannered and polite, but Christenson who had been the bear to head off the wolf pack that had pursued Brad. The others were either there to act as a cover story for the group coming over— “A party, homes,” Ray had chirped when he climbed out of Stafford’s topless Jeep, “Can’t have so many people rolling up with no noise.”—to help explain away the cars. And some, it seemed, were there to give Mike hell for the way he had frozen when meeting Olivia at the bar. According to Nate’s breathless retelling, Mike had been so shy around her that he had simply drank his beer and let everyone else do the talking until Auburn decided to abandon him at the bar and went outside for a smoke to force them to talk.

Sarah and Olivia had left long before the sun rose to head north to the mountains. Nate and Brad met Mike at Barrett’s place. Unlike the sprawling estate setup Nate had in New York, his place was a modest, three-bedroom, one story house with a decent yard. It was furnished sensibly with modern pull out couches and daybeds in the main area and the spare room had a rollaway bed under the main one. The man admitted more than once the drinking that went down at the house meant quite a few would end up passed out on them by the end of the night. The room they were using was set up as an entertainment room with a set of futons and a large screen with an add-on bathroom. The master bedroom, he gathered, was better suited for this. Brad idly realized he had never known what a dream room would look like in the house until he saw it. Movies or video games would be heavenly.

They had been talking for about an hour when the call came through their application. Auburn poked his head out of the door and called for those who wanted to watch the walk to be quiet but come watch. A few of the clan members joined them. Christenson brought in plates for them with Walt following with beers. As Walt took his seat by Brad’s leg, a woman with tanned skin and large brown eyes came into frame. He caught the shift Mike gave and realized this was Olivia. And he idly understood the cause for the embarrassment. She was stunning.

“Top,” she greeted and squinted into the sunlight. “I see you have a party without me. I’ll be jealous later.” There was a strange authority to her voice. A playful and stern tone that Nate was realizing was what all of the service members had.

“We’ll throw another for you when you’re back, staff sergeant. Sitrep?”

“Just arrived at the campsite you held with the clan,” Olivia replied quickly in a sharp tone. “The site has been heavily gone over by a variety of footprints, to include humans and animals, break.” She looked around at the ground and back to the phone. “Common is canine with a number of feline prints. All newer than the drag marks of the clan picking up site before heading back to base.”

“Copy that,” Barrett said with a sigh. “Any vehicles?”

“Aye, Top,” A second voice replied. Brad was confused until he realized they were both sharing a set of wireless ear pods, and it was Sarah who spoke in response. A blonde crossed the screen from behind Olivia, who turned and changed which camera the phone was shooting from. “What looks like a truck or SUV of some kind and a quad came through here. We saw no signs of this site being watched on the way up and the wildlife is active.”

“Good to hear,” Auburn replied. “Are both of you armed?”

“Yes, sir,” Olivia replied. “We have two tasers with extra charge, a gold-tipped baton, and a few smoke markers, as well.”

Brad realized that meant they had firearms as well. Smart, he realized. A dog ran through the frame as well, tail wagging furiously with its nose to the ground. He was huge with thick fur. Just an added level of protection.

“Okay, I am about to go live on our group with Hector’s body cam,” Sarah commented. “That’s what the boys are not all crammed in the room.”

Behind him, one of the guys pulled up another laptop and started clicking softly. Brad did not know how he knew, but he could feel a shift that said some form of confirmation happened. No words were spoken. He had realized a few days in that the clan rarely used the Net while together. They had all spent so long together that silent conversations and orders were normal for them. Even after a few days, he was picking up on these cues himself.

The walk was slow compared to what it had been for Brad. He ran most of it, sure, but they drove it. Idle chatter was kept to keep the women from feeling disconnected from the rest of the meeting at the house. They only stepped out of the car when they came to the river. Sarah and Hector got out and investigated a scene that looked like a hunting pack of wolves got to an animal. There was silence throughout the room to the point where the cookout in the backyard sounded like an explosion.

“Interrogative,” Barrett finally spoke. “What are we seeing.”

A laptop with the second view was handed to Nate over the couch and Brad looked over his shoulders. It was a lioness. Not even a puma. And she had, in fact, been mutilated. Olivia’s voice made his start as she had been quiet for so long.

“I have the microphone, Top,” she explained. “Looks like one of their shifters got on their bad side. This was not a hunt for food, this was for sport. There is no sign of her body being eaten aside from vultures and other scavengers. Judging by the state of the body, this is no more than a day old, break.” A pause. “It seems she was chased here by the prints from upstream.”

“That’s the stream I left. I had jumped into the river up a ways at the broken bridge,” Brad replied suddenly. He had been calm but seeing where he had climbed out of the water not even a week before had his heart racing. At once, he felt what had to be the room’s worth of soothing energy from the clan.

“Copy that, Brad. Did you see any of them in beast shape?”

“Negative,” he replied. “At least not more than Jordan who was a puma and a few as wolves, but no association to their human forms. There were only a few females.”

He felt the hand on his thigh tighten as Nate heard him and connected that statement with the woman he had smelled nights before. Sarah climbed back into the car and they started off toward the river’s opening. When they got to the bridge, Barrett ordered them to proceed on foot. And to keep an eye out and all conversation on their end to each other. Brad directed them at each of the signs which direction to head. It was not even early evening when Brad stopped then and said it was the game trail he had taken from the house. The pair stopped and Sarah got on her phone and seemed to have marked the location on GPS.

“Return to the victor when you’ve marked the location. We can monitor it now that we know where he is located.”

When they were safely back on the main road, they hung up and Sarah kept messaging the rest of the clan so they knew the pair were safe. The younger supernaturals went back outside with the others and Barrett pulled up the GPS marker on Google Earth as Patterson came in and joined them with a beer in hand and a burger half-consumed in the other. He nodded at the men and took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“Brian, did you mug the children for food,” Barrett asked mildly as he zoomed in.

“Not at all, your wife likes me more than you,” he replied easily. “What do we have here.”

“Jordan’s property. Drawing up a plan of attack,” Mike explained as he looked up from his notebook. “We’re going to need to be back at the site before the next moon. Ray figures that they’ll be setting up surveillance if they haven’t moved yet.”

“Which one is Ray,” Patterson asked.

“The buck-toothed inbred running the grill,” Brad offered. Nate snorted, which made him smile. “He may enjoy his wolf shape for sex too much, but he understands this shit better than most.”

“Also grills a good burger,” Patterson added. “What’s the plan?”

“Air strike,” Nate offered morbidly. “It’s a naturally fortified location. Difficult to get into, especially if he’s watching.”

“Edinburgh Castle was also naturally fortified, but people got in,” Brad offered. Patterson hummed appreciatively. “If we have people who can fly like Trombley, I say have foot troops draw them out. He’s a coward and will stay holed up. Most likely in the room I noticed.”

“Diversion,” Nate hummed. “Mongolian style?”

“What’s that mean,” Garza, who was one of the younger supernaturals in the room asked.

“It means the LT is a nerd,” Ray offered from the hall as Nate explained how the Mongols would have a false retreat. The army would follow them and there would be troops lying in wait in ditches who would then attack, as well. Walt rolled his eyes fondly as he squeezed by to hand Nate his phone.

“Kocher on the line. He says he needs you asap,” Walt told him. Nate nodded and pardoned himself.

After a few minutes of tactical debate, Brad felt a flood of dread. He got up with such speed everyone in the room jumped to attention as well.

“Where’s Nate,” he demanded.

“Outside,” one of the Balboa guys replied.

He was down the hall when he heard the commotion start. They were in a neighborhood, but not safe enough. Brad burst through the door in time to watch as the female who had once sat upon his lap got knocked to the ground by Auburn’s wife as Nate was half-dragged toward the RV door and to the backyard. He was bleeding heavily from his side and the knife on the ground was gold-plated. Brad faltered for a moment, not sure which way to go, but knew Mike would handle Nate immediately.

“Keep her alive,” Brad ordered. He was shocked when the clan seemed to immediately stop at his voice. Well trained indeed. He did not even need to yell.

The woman was gagged and brought inside to be searched. Walt followed them to make sure she was not injured more, but his pale face was a contorted mix of rage and worry. Brad felt a tug and turned for the house. He found Nate in the laundry room, already getting cleaned and worked on by Auburn, who was a regimental surgeon. And with the supply bag at his feet, Brad realized the man must have done a number of these before. Nate looked a pale gray and was sweating.

“Gold poisoning,” Mike muttered to him. “He’s getting a transfusion. Auburn’s wife is off to get his blood type from the house.”

“Why can’t he go to a hospital?” Brad asked.

“Different blood. He needs a shifter’s blood to replace what he lost and what has been tainted.” Mike looked him over and his face softened. “He’ll be fine. You alerted us in time that something was off. She wasn’t able to get the jump on your boy.”

“How did you know?” Ray asked. He was in there with Steiny, helping Auburn with fetching supplies. He looked older than Brad ever noticed before.

“It felt… wrong. There was just panic. I thought it was Nate’s and—”

“It was,” Nate muttered. His good hand reached out for Brad, who shuffled in after Auburn nodded. “Kocher says Shasta has dissolved Gray Warren and is implementing an official ban on us if we are not able to get back in time to stand trial against the regional council.”

“I thought you are here on behalf of the High Council,” Auburn asked, voicing Brad’s confusion.

“I am,” he hissed as Auburn tugged the last sutra in place. “But that does not mean she can’t pull rank over there. With Mike here, she is the only leader in the region. We missed a run and she rejected our request to run elsewhere.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the cunt is freezing all our assets for those who were not present, barring Mike and Nate from running with them again, and effectively banning them from New York,” Ray snapped. Brad blinked. “Oh, and she has the fucking rest of the pack more or less in a hostage situation. Without their clan, they need to request to join the others. She’s so far up the other leader’s asses they can’t shit her out with a week of Del Taco and soup as a diet.”

“Ray,” Nate snapped. Then sighed.

“I have an idea,” Brad offered softly. “First, Ray, for whatever depraved love you possess, please stop talking for a moment.” Ray’s lips pressed and worked together, but he stayed silent. “Thank-you. Second. I need Pappy’s number. She won’t monitor him because he’s a human. I need your bank information if you have it on your phone. And anyone who has keys to your New York place needs to get your fake information.”

“What are you planning?” Nate asked. Brad offered him a wolfish smile.

“It’s my turn to protect you.” was all Brad said before he pressed a kiss to Nate’s hair.


	14. The Next Steps

“So why am I sitting here with you,” Ray chirped from where he had camped out on the floor of their AirBnB.

Brad sighed through his nose and debated not replying. A few hours before a member of Jordan’s pack had stabbed his bond mate. Now, Nate was laying safely in Barrett’s place under the supervision of Auburn, who was more than happy to explain at great length all the reasons Bard did not need to hover. And how it would maybe be best, as his body was sending off the hints that he was not as calm as he pretended to be. He had gone home and demanded Ray go with him. It had been under the pretense that he would be able to help with what needed to be done. The truth, which Brad would never admit to, was that he needed Ray to feel calmer. After everything he had gone through, the small maniac was something of a security blanket when Nate was not available. And wasn’t that just fucked?

“Because,” he replied in a flat tone, “For all the killed-off brain cells and questionable choices, you remain infuriatingly intelligent, which I need in this moment.”

“Don’t let Walter hear you sweet talking me, he may get jealous,” Ray purred. Brad sighed and pinched his brow.

“How you ever convinced that well-adjusted young man to have a modicum of attraction to you is proof that the human experience is flawed.”

“But we’re not human,” Ray pointed out immediately.

“It’s the only reason I am able to tolerate your existence in my life. That your evolutionary failures don’t reflect heavily on my species.”

“Is this the pillow talk you give Nate, or do you just ask for it doggy style?”

“Ray.” It was a sharp, short word that intimidated junior officers who were under him in training. Ray, however, simply cackled.

“So, what is your master plan, oh sergeant, my sergeant,” Ray asked after a pause.

Brad looked down from where he was stretched on the couch. The other man was looking up at him with his large, expressive eyes. They were filled with curiosity and a slight hesitancy. That was a fair question, as he simply thrusted Nate’s netbook into Ray’s hands and told him to figure out the passwords. The man was sick to his stomach with how easy they had been to guess. That was going to be a long discussion when all this was over. Proof that the man was extremely out of touch with the ways of modern protection. His failures at digital security aside, there was little guidance beyond that over the last hour. Ray had gotten into his few accounts, including his banks, loans, credit cards, and even a landline that he had paid for since 1967 but Brad had never seen once in the house.

“Does he have payments on any of his houses,” Brad asked in lieu of an answer. Ray blinked and flicked through.

“Nah, Homes. Seems he bought many of them flat out or so long ago they’re paid off.”

“Convenient. Anything in open bank accounts that are linked to Shasta?”

“Uh, two. Credit unions that I think are older than God.”

“I don’t think Jesus paid for the last supper on charge card,” Brad quipped dryly.

“What do you know, you’re Jewish.”

Brad smirked at that. “Point, Ray. Transfer in small increments to other accounts but keep in at least a hundred in those two accounts.”

“You’re bleeding her dry,” Ray replied suddenly. Brad could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re evil, brother. So how small are we talking?”

“I don’t know, what are we looking at? Probably like fifty to each of the other accounts?”

“That’s not going to move much around.”

“How fucking rich is he,” Brad dove-tailed in response. The man turned and let his feet drop to the ground. He bent down to look at the screen and let out a long whistle. “Maybe add a few zeros to that.”

“Sugar daddy better treat you right,” Ray replied. His laugh was cut off by the throw pillow colliding with the back of his head. “You’re a dick, Bradley.”

“I’m aware.”

The plan was simple. Ensure she could get her hands on as little of his property and money as possible. Transfer funds out of her grasp and slowly into one bank account. That way, they could get a place out here without her seeing it. He had already contacted his landlord to say his lease would not be renewed. It was only for six-months, thankfully. But with that and the money left over from the place he had sold out here a year before, he and Nate would be able to get a decent loan and down payment for the house. Though, Nate brought up a point right before he had left.  
_  
“I have other places,” Nate replied in a soft tone. His face pinched in pain when he spoke in a way that made Brad nearly feel the pain himself._

_“I thought you wanted to move out here,” Brad had asked, confused. He opened his mouth to continue, but Nate shook his head._

_“To sell. I don’t need them. I’ll never return to Sweden or Kentucky. I’ll never go back to Quebec or Marseilles.”_

_“You could keep the house in Marseilles,” Brad had replied lightly. It had gotten a breathy chuckle and Nate’s lips quirking up at the corner. Brad loved how they did that._

_“If you can put them on the market,” Nate had winced with a sharp gas. But Brad understood. Nate knew where his home was._  
  
“Move the money, what else,” Ray pushed. Brad sighed. Might as well plunge.

“How much do you have saved.”

“You’re not my type.”

“A fact I am ever grateful for.”

“Fucktard. A lot because dear Walter refuses to live in a house.”

“Enough to move to San Diego.” There was a five second pause. A record, maybe. “Joshua?”

“Brad, what the fuck?”

Brad sighed and opened up the Net to contact Mike and Walt, who were both still in the house. After a moment, his soft brushes into their minds got a response. Walt came in from the back porch and Mike from his room. Both seemed to sense the mild panic that was bubbling in Ray’s chest. Even Brad could feel it. He looked at them and sighed. His hands dragged down his face slowly and scrubbed a few times. He was Nate’s tied human and that had no real power, yes, but he was still with the leader of their strange group until Jordan was captured. That had to mean something, right? He needed to ask someone that when he got the time to—Barrett’s wife, maybe.

“Shasta is trying to defunk Gray Warren,” Brad supplied. All three swore, but Mike was the loudest.

“I knew she’d pull shit like this while Nate was gone.”

“Mike…” Walt looked between Ray and the older man with worry glowing in his eyes. “What does that mean? To everyone.”

Brad had wondered the same thing. It was comforting to know that he and Walt were on the same level when it came to understanding some parts of pack structure. He leaned forward and bridged his arms over his knees. Mike dropped next to him and Walt sat beside Ray, who immediately nuzzled and snuffled behind Walt’s ear. The tension seeped out of the blond almost immediately.

“It means she will put it to the regional council to have myself and Nate removed from power and the rights to run pulled. All of our clan will be forced to other groups or to be solos requesting run permission in New York.” Mike explained. His normally calm voice was tense and short—a quirk that Nate seemed to have gotten from him. “With us out here, she can call the meeting on our absence. Without the second available to speak on my behalf, she can dissolve the group.”

“But you’re here on word of the High Council,” Ray replied indignantly and maybe too loud for how close they were all sitting. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Nate is,” Mike corrected solemnly. “I can be as support, but I could have stayed for the clan rather than let Rudy, Pappy, and Poke take over the run. Which is what I should have done.”

“No,” Walt snapped. “We needed you out here because Nate would have been a disaster without you to keep him in line.”

Brad hummed and nodded. He hated to admit it, but Nate’s self-righteousness and determination was a volatile combination with that hope for the best and genuine idealism. It was something that the man had seen in small glimpses over the week with him again. He was someone who wanted to believe, and that was the most dangerous thing to his survivability. Mix that with a surprisingly sharp temper on a fuse that was either slow or fast, depending on the day, and Nate was a ticking time bomb both of rage and disappointment. He needed Mike to balance him out and remind him both to breathe and to look up. Mike looked down and less sure of that than the three of them felt.

“So, what does that mean for us,” Ray asked looking up at Brad.

“Nate was asked to stay,” Brad explained. “By Barrett himself. He wanted to ask you, Mike, but you were distracted. He realized after all this that he had a flank open, and he needed more people in charge to help keep an eye out for the pack.”

“Move here,” Walt asked, his excitement betrayed by his voice. “We couldn’t do that, could we?”

“We can,” Mike replied carefully. He looked at Brad and then ran his hand over his short buzzcut. “As leaders, you mean.”

Brad nodded.

“That means Gray Warren would merge with Balboa and the pack would be relocated,” Mike replied.

“And why you asked if I could afford to move here,” Ray supplied as well. Brad nodded again. “Any way Shasta found this out?”

“No, no way.” Walt replied. “No one’s reached out to the clan since we got here, except for when Rudy asked us for Christenson’s enchiladas recipe today. She probably just hates Barrett and is pissed Nate got the blessing from the High Council and not her.”

“So she’d ruin everyone else just for that?” Ray asked. “Okay, one, fuck her. Two, never call me petty again. Can we get her removed.”

“Yes-"

“Sweet. Let’s-"

“But,” Mike clipped out harshly. “We need her to take action against us first. The moment she bans us from New York City, we can take action.” Mike looked over at Brad and sighed. “Are you ready to help Nate in that?”

“I will be,” Brad replied. “But first we need to handle Jordan. Put everything in one account and put the houses up for sale.”

"I’ll contact Olivia for that GPS location,” Mike replied. “You seem oddly calm about this.”

Brad gave a sly, half smirk to that. One that showed a hint of teeth.

“Fucking Iceman,” Ray snipped and opened up the laptop. “Heart of ice and dick of gold.”

“Shut up, Ray.”


	15. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***The second half of this fic is smut, as a warning. Skip past the major page break if you're not here for it <3

“You’d swear you were the shifter of the two of us,” Nate complained as he stood in front of their bed.

It had only been a day since he had been stabbed in the front yard of Barrett’s house, but he was already healed up. The small scab due to fall off soon was all that remained of the once deep wound thanks to both his own accelerated healing and the efficiency of Auburn as a surgeon. Nate had protested Brad being removed from the house so he could heal, but in retrospect, the man understood that it was for the best. After all, he would not have been able to focus on healing and resting if he had been able to smell the anxiety and feel the low thrum of anger that boiled underneath. After the incidents of the first run, Nate understood the toxicity of playing off the heavy, painful emotions that were always present under the surface of his bond mate. The distance also seemed to have given Brad a chance to work through most of that volatile feeling and push toward something more productive.

Both men had an eventful day in their own worlds. Nate had been present for the interrogation of the assassin mercenary who had been sent to at least injure him as a threat. It was there that he had learned more about Jordan and the feral pack than Nate believed anyone knew to that point, outside of Trombley. Barrett and Auburn had asked Nate to sit in with them as a potential new leader to Balboa with Patterson present for documentation. Mike declined, explaining he had something else that needed to be handled to secure their stranded Gray Warren members in New York.

The woman, who insisted she be called Talon, was a werecat, it seemed. She was young for a shifter, but still older than some of the Balboa members. She had not been part of Jordan’s clan long, but rather was scooped up as an abandoned member of another clan. It seemed that in the aftermath of the fires, more than just the Logan’s clan had merged with others. Her former intended partner had been a higher member of the original clan and caught the eye of the new Elder they had joined with. The Elder created a false set of situations that allowed her to call for Talon to become labeled as one of the rejected and banned from the original clan. Jordan had found her a few years back and slowly brought her into his group through promises and half lies. While he did not deliver on all of them, one of the most important had been revenge on her former intended and the Elder, both of whom Patterson noted as missing persons for over a year.

Jordan, according to Talon, preyed upon those who were kicked out and abandoned. His loyalty was earned through lies, thinly veiled threats, and manipulation. Most of the people who ran with him felt as though he was all they would ever have by the time they pledge themselves. And he used that desire to please him as a weapon. For the men who brought Bradley up to the Sierras, it was a promise to take over a clan that rivaled Balboa in size not far from San Diego. For the Logans, it was free passage and a place in the Baltics where they would be able to create their own clan in the Old World. For Trombley, it had been a place to belong and protection from the brutish ways of Barrett—a fact that Barrett grinned darkly at, knowing full well Trombley was safely living with Redman and Cody until the storm blew over.

To Talon, there was no hope in getting people to turn on him, but to just attack him where he was weakest. Himself. She knew he was strong to humans and wealthy, but as a person, he relied on others for their skills to protect him. And that was the only way to get at him. Everyone else was too dependent to think of leaving. They’d die for him if he asked.

_”Why are you telling us, then,” Nate had asked, unable to hide his curiosity._

_Talon had stared at him with a raw and honest face as she still refused to struggle against her binds or cause an issue. “I’m alive,” she explained. “Honorable deeds should be responded to with honor. Something that I’ve lacked for too long.”_

He still was rocked by that. No pleas were issues or begging, simply realizing that they were not bad people. And that she was not to be punished by whipping or worse. Simply held until they knew what to do with her. Her honesty and willingness to accept punishment was why she was moved to stay with Holsey, Stiney, and Leon while they planned the attack.

After the exhausting day, Nate came home to find that Brad had put three of the houses up for sale, had placed the others on standby for photographs from realtors, had consolidated most of his accounts into three, and with Mike had pulled up a set of plausible houses in Balboa territory to purchase. Mike had also gotten in contact with Poke, Rudy, and Pappy to tell Doc the potential plan, organized with Olivia a number of potential approaches on the location. Ray and Walt had gone over to Christenson’s with a few of the others to collect their own hardware for this attack. They spent the afternoon crafting gold inlayed bullets for the hunting rifles they owned, enhancing scope situations, and figuring out a way to keep everyone in touch who would be potentially out of Pack Sense reach.

_”What do you mean the humans are part of this,” Nate had asked Mike when he finally came home. He glared at the smirk on Mike’s face._

_“You realize they may be more deadly than we are, right? We may be able to become animals, but nothing matters when you get shot in the head.”_

It had been a sobering thought. They would plan for the next two days on the assault itself before heading back up. For now, he could look down at Brad who was glaring up at him with a face that was both annoyed and fond. Something he had grown almost addicted to in the last few days. The taller man was sitting on the bed with Nate between his splayed legs. His large hands were curled softly around Nate’s waist. He was soaking the heat in as much as he was the thrum of adoration he could feel. At first, he thought it was the same fondness he felt for Ray, but now Nate could tell it was something deeper and richer. As significant but quite different.

“Have you decided yet,” Brad asked and looked up Nate’s body at him. The imagery on that made Nate’s spine prickle. His fingers rubbed over the man’s hair.

“Mike and I are putting into merge here,” Nate admitted, then snorted at the smile and pulse of happiness he felt shooting through their Tie. “Yeah, yeah.”

“The other two are already willing to move,” Brad replied before he looked forward and dragged his nose gently along his muscles, which made his body tense.

“Ray informed me in his own way,” Nate replied with a laugh then hissed as Brad kissed the healing wound. “Not getting rid of him any time soon, then.”

“I guess I’ll suffer,” he deadpanned. Nate gripped Brad’s hair as he felt teeth scrape along his hip bone. “Brad.”

“Nate.”

Nate gripped his hair tighter as Brad bit down again and sucked slightly before chuckling. Brad’s hands ran up his sides slowly, which made the shorter man cut off a moan in the back of his throat. His bond mate chuckled.

“I knew you’d be this responsive,” Brad chided.

“You,” He paused again when Brad kissed his side again. “What are you doing,” he asked shakily.

This was not something they had done before. They had cuddled for lack of a better term. A few times, tired or worn out mentally they had kissed, but it had never been charged before. It had never been something sensual and on knife point. He looked down at Brad, who was watching him back with a slightly predatory gleam. One he knew well as the man who could become the tiger. He opened his mouth again to speak when Brad stood suddenly, flush against his body and caught his mouth on the way up. He gasped against the man’s lips and felt the tongue press through his lips without a hint of hesitation or shyness. After a moment, Nate’s hands twitched at his side before gripping Brad’s hips tightly.

The kisses moved from tentative to comfortable instantly, as if they had been doing this for years. Comfortable made way to hungry and desperate. He pushed back on Brad’s chest as the man pulled him back as he crawled back onto the mattress. Nate followed on instinct, not wanting to break contact. Hands explored the bare chest and warm expanse of skin he had imagined for months. The rich musk of arousal spiking from the man made his pulse and cock jump with need. Like a dream—so much so that the only reason he knew it was not one was he could hear the arguing between Walt and Ray in the other room—as Brad laid back and let Nate crawl over him and pin him down.

“I’ve thought about this,” Brad panted as he finally took a breath. Nate kissed along the man’s neck and collarbone as he hissed and his body arched up. “Longer than I want to admit.”

“Yeah,” Nate growled before biting down again and licking the sore spot.

“Fuck yeah,” Brad hissed.

He pulled Nate, which he moved willingly, into another kiss. Nate’s hands squirmed between their bodies to Brad’s button and fly and opened him. A hum of approval vibrated against his lips and the hand that had been digging bruises into his hips left to reciprocate. A sharp tug brought the shorts and briefs down far enough for Brad’s leg to bend and his foot pulled them off the rest of the way before kicking his own down and blindly away.

The moment he was naked fully, Nate pulled himself away and sat back on his heels to look down. Brad had seen him nude plenty of times after shifts and, to be honest, around the house. But he had never seen the same. And he was greeted with golden skin pulled tight against long, defined muscles. His abs clenched as Nate dragged a finger from his belly button to his sternum. He smirked and Brad tilted his head curiously before Nate scooted back further and bent down to kiss the inside of Brad’s thigh.

He looked along Brad’s body and watched the man prop himself up with a baldly curious and excited expression, so raw and open that it was almost out of place on the normally reserved man’s face. Nate smirked wickedly at him.

“I have too,” Nate told him before grasping Brad’s erection and licking from base to tip in one slow motion. He grinned as Brad shuddered. “Thought about it constantly.”

Nate didn’t bother hesitating now that he had the chance and Brad pleading under his breath for him to do so. It had been a long time, perhaps longer than his bond mate had been alive, but there were some things that he did not forget how to do. The grip at the base, the slow, intense suck on the way up and tongue on the way down. His other hand teasing Brad’s balls and pushing lightly behind it. Each time, he heard swears and growls. So far removed from the composed and unshakable man he was normally. That power to make him quake and plead almost made up for the deep, uncontrollable need to make him feel good, safe, and provided for. To make him feel at all.

He pulled off as he felt the way Brad’s body began to tense and his breathing picked up. While he wanted nothing more in that moment to taste his release, Nate also felt that to have more. Nate crawled back over Brad’s body and pressed his hips down and ground as Brad gasped into his mouth as he began to kiss again. Their hips rolled until they found a rhythm that made Nate whine deep in his throat and bite down on Brad’s lip.

“What do you want,” Brad rasped. And wasn’t that the question?

“Fuck,” Nate gasp, and tried to focus enough to decide. “You. This, more, I don’t care. Fuck, I don’t even…” He choked as Brad gave a rather brutally amazing thrust. “Fuck if you keep doing that I won’t last long.”

He whined as Brad gripped his cheeks and slid his middle finger between them to press lightly against his opening. Nate would have been embarrassed if he had shame left at the way he pressed back against the touch and gripped what short hair he could and tugged hard. Brad chuckled and rubbed lightly as he licked back into his mouth.

Nate reached between them to grip both of their erections, now slightly slick with precum and sweat. He began pumping at an off rhythm born out of sheer need. Brad continued to rub against him with one hand and the other braced at the base of his skull. He grinned at Nate, making him suddenly conscious of the noises and nonsense that were pouring from his lips. Brad only pressed their foreheads together and kept piercing eye contact.

“Come on, Nate,” He urged. “We have a long fucking time left to get to everything, come for me. Come on.”

His urging, thrusting, and the tip finally relaxing his muscle enough to slip in was it for Nate. He came calling out something he was not sure was in English or intelligible. Still, he continued to pump his arm as he shuddered through the after shock and bite down on Brad’s shoulder. The man went tense and still underneath him as a second wave of wet heat poured through his fist.

They laid like that, sticky, hot, and panting, until Nate finally rolled to the side and grabbed his shirt from the night before to wipe them up. Before he could, Brad grabbed his wrist softly, causing him to look up. He had a confused and timid face suddenly and Nate thought back to what he had said as he finished and blushed. Because he knew it was true.

“I love you too,” Brad promised him. His thumb ran over Nate’s wrist before letting him go. “When we’re finished with him, you can have everything you begged for.”

Nate blinked, then smiled softly. His trembling hand wiped them both clean before tossing the shirt to the corner.

“As you said,” He muttered as he dropped against the pillow and allowed himself to be gathered against Brad’s chest. “We have a long time to get to it all.”


	16. The Assault

Walt climbed out of the car after they pulled up to the campsite. They were on a different part of the mountain this time. The night before, two of the humans from the team, who also had their partners deployed like Sarah, set up the tent and left a car to avoid suspicion. Now, they were all stripping down and stowing their gear in labeled bags. In total, twenty-two members were at this site and twenty-two at the other. Site Alpha led by Auburn and Barrett were the diversion. They had Sarah and one of the humans with them for backup firepower. Site Bravo was led by Nate and Mike, as they were the ones with the permission to take Jordan in. Patterson was with them, as well, keeping a close watch on Talon.

Brad was with Olivia, loading their magazines with the bullets he had helped the clan make with Ray the last two days. Nate was circling the man as he prepped, snuffling worriedly around him. It was less shocking than the fact that Mike was beginning to act the same with Olivia, who just accepted it patiently. He looked over at Ray, who had a strangely serious and determined face. It struck him how old the man was in life. That he was not just an idiot twenty-something year old like he looked. That behind the laughter and the joking was a man who had seen a lot and survived it all. It made his stomach squirm thinking about how Ray was so much more than people ever expected of him, and he played all of the fools like a fiddle.

As the sun began to fall behind the tall trees, the energy of the site changed heavily. The radio on Olivia’s shoulder crackled with Barrett’s voice telling them they move out in twenty minutes. With that, the clan began to lock down the site as best they could. The cars were locked, and important items were in lock boxes in one of the cars. All of the keys were split between the two human’s vest. Finally, one by one, they all shifted. Nate and Mike were the last. Walt’s tail flicked as he looked around at what they were using. A bear, wolves, pumas, a few birds of prey, a tiger, and a lion. This was not for reconnaissance this time. This was an assault. Brad dropped to his knee and pressed his forehead against Nate’s broad tiger head at the same time a wet tongue slid into his ear and Ray stood by him, grooming out of stress.

 _Don’t get worked up now,_ he chided and got a growl in return.

He laughed mentally and sent a flood of warmth. At the same time, the net at large had a small burst push through, quick and fond. Walt looked over to find that Brad and Olivia were talking, but her hand was buried in Mike’s mane as he rubbed against her. He laughed mentally and chose to take that image with him into this—the image of their leader possibly finding someone after so long. A sign that moving was the right choice. That was a thought he was decidedly not telling Ray. He did not need that type of mockery.

 _It’s time,_ Brad pushed through the Net after looking at his watch.

And with that, they headed out. It was a long run, but they spread out across the mountain with the two furthest ends within reach of both Alpha and their own Nets. Above, Holsey and Trombley swooped through and delivered updates on movement. Thus far, nothing. It was seemingly going better than planned before a loud _kreeeeee_ echoed from above and Walt looked up to see an eagle swoop down on Trombley’s Red-Tailed Hawk form. He dodged out of the way and dove through the trees, far smaller and more agile than the larger bird. Moments later, the strong smell of animals hit them.

 _Here they come,_ Nate replied. _Push through, we have Alpha to pull them away from us. We need to get to the house._

As he spoke, there was a crashing sound that startled him to a halt. He rethought that plan when he noted a bull moose charging through the forest, knocking through sapling and bush alike. His hair stood on end. Walt jumped up the nearest tree and jump to the next one as the soft scent of Redman pushed through. Alpha had arrived with one impressive cavalry. Walt jumped down and continued charging forward. As he ran he heard the first, hollow thud of the rifle crack through the air. A chorus of startled birds followed and a wolf that had been hassling Steiny dropped limp to the ground. Walt looked back and watched Olivia stand from where she had taken a knee to aim.

 _Where is Brad,_ he called out and Olivia’s browed furrowed. _Pack sense. Just point._

Olivia pointed forward and he kept running. Trombley swooped out to land next to Olivia before she was joined by a sleek bobcat. Talon had joined the run Walt ran forward and hunted down Nate.

It was another ten minutes before he saw the break of the house clearing. The thunderous roar of the tiger sent more birds into flight as Nate and Mike paced the driveway. Another lion laid lazily on the porch, flicking his tail. Nate roared again in challenge, but still, he was still. Finally, Walt came into range and was able to pick up the conversation.

 _… And you expect, what, exactly,_ the new voice asked. _For me to just play nice. Obey the word of the Council just because?_ The man clicked his tongue a few times mockingly and let out a low rumble.

 _You will go or we will take you,_ Nate explained in the short, aggressive tone he used as his patience wore thinner. _This is your last warning._

_Or what? You really think your little group will take down everyone? Kitties, puppies, and a few crazy bears?_

Nate growled in response, echoes by Mike. They stalked closer. Walt watched the moment in a ringing silence as they stared at each other. After a moment, he climbed up a tree for a better vantage point, which was when he noted that there were people roaming. At the same time, he heard Brad come through the Net, saying, _There are shifters in the trees,_ in an eerily calm tone. Sure enough, the moment his sentence ended, a wolf launched out from the sharp decline and latched onto Mike’s haunches. The lion roared and dropped before turning to take on his opponent. As he did, three more charged out to swarm.

Walt jumped down himself, looking for the smallest to take on. As he did, Ray and Christenson broke through the clearing and Nate turned to help. It was that moment Jordan used to his advantage and lunged. He grasped Nate by the spin and tugged the Tiger to the ground. Nate roared in pain and a flare of volcanic anger flooded the Net. His own blood boiled with such adrenaline that he felt the need to rip the spine from the wolf before him vertebrae by vertebrae. Instead, he bit the soft underbelly before the hind leg and pulled.

The flurry of fangs and fur began. The anger came out on growls, howls, and roars. Walt looked up from the limp body he dragged down to see Nate back on his feet and teeth buried deep into his spine. Jordan’s leg buckled. For a moment and Nate pushed his body to the ground.

 _You do not fuck with my Mate,_ he snarled.

Another wolf shot out from the house, taking Nate by surprise, and knocking him off Jordan. As the two started to battle, the lion stalked closer before preparing to jump when a crack echoed through the forest again, this time closer. The bullet hit Jordan clean in the side, crumpling the lion but not killing him. Walt heard the rifle click again before another round fired and hit the wolf fighting Nate in the back of the head. He, too, fell limp. The man looked to his side and saw Brad was a few trees over, perfectly still and using a branch to steady his aim as he breathed.

_What an abomination of a Shifter you are, Nathaniel. Leafmark would be ashamed._

Mike froze at the name, but Nate shifted back and stared down at the bleeding man. The rifle clicked again, cocked and ready for another shot. The forest fell silent.

“Adapt and overcome,” Nate replied in a cold and distant tone. “You’ll come with us alive, or Brad will put a bullet through your skull and we’ll take you back dead. Your choice.”

The forest fell silent before the sickening crunch of shattered bone readjusted into human form. Walt climbed down at the same time Brad did and covered his six as the man approached with handcuffs and put them on. Walt looked up as Trombley swooped down and then headed back, most likely to inform them the cabin was taken, and they needed the trucks. Nate took one of Brad’s side arms and stood prepared to shoot should anyone attack before Patterson and the truck arrived. No one did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be another chapter or two and then a slight hiatus between this and the next and probably final part of the World Unknown world in my end. The pause is less of not having a direction and more because I have started grad school, and it is intense. The next segment will overlap with parts of this one for a bit and focus more on Rudy, Pappy, Poke, and Doc.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe out there! <3 Thank-you everyone who has read, commented, and gave kudos! It's been fun getting the band back together.


	17. New Beginning

The jarring difference between Balboa and Gray Warren was never more apparent than when Barrett walked into the Airbnb without so much as a knock with Mike trailing behind and Olivia after him. In his hand was a stack of papers, legal sized no less, and envelopes. The last person through the door was Auburn, who turned and shut it politely. As though that excused the sudden intrusion. All the same, the werebear sat down across from the couch Brad and Nate were occupying with Olivia sitting on the arm of the chair Mike took for himself. Nate was still untangling himself from Brad’s embrace and hoping desperately that their excitement was somehow hidden from their doubt even if they could smell the raw lust from both men. The three super naturals were doing an impressive job of keeping their faces still and blithe as though it was just another Tuesday.

“To what do we owe the pleasure,” Brad said not unkindly though Nate could feel the annoyance pulse through their bond. It made his lip twitch.

“Just bringing the final paperwork involving the Jordan case and the official merger agreement,” Auburn explained as he took the second cushion on the love seat.

Two days ago, they had brought Jordan to the regional council for holding. Brad had been excused from the interrogation and spent his time with Walt and Ray house hunting and handling the financial situation of those already in California. Nate figured that it was best that no one explained how he was able to do all of that and keep pretending it was completely legal. Mike and Nate, however, were in the San Diego offices disguised as one of the student buildings of a local community college. The old building was something out of a Greek revival with columns and a domed roof. It was small compared to many of the other buildings, yet also ignored. Inside had been a small amphitheater or surgical theater. The seats were not filled with students but the council members of the region, including Auburn, Barrett and nearly a dozen others. They were of varying ages and descent. To the side were two cages lined with gold and silver, Jordan and Talon.

The first in the trial was Talon’s, who was originally put to death with the verdict, but they were debating her appeal. After nearly two hours of debating and deliberating, the four who had interrogated her the week before managed to change her punishment to a tie with a willing member of Balboa and service to the council for three decades. The option of imprisonment until he found someone compatible was circumvented by Barrett announcing that Christenson had volunteered to be her bond mate. Attention then turned to Jordan, who was not Jordan at all.

Alistair Jordan was not the man in the cage. Rather Hans Malkovich was the man present. The council had run his blood and results against the identity presented and used to get his seven properties throughout Southern California. Jordan, the real man, was a werecat from Dover. Born in 1629, he had come over and originally lived in Oglethorpe’s Savannah colony. He was the representative from the Old World and related to a former member of the High Council. The real Jordan was a businessman and a merchant working with the British Royal Navy for pirate control in the region through the Revolutionary War when he had vanished from the documents and he stopped communicating with the Old World in the 19th century.

Han Malkovich was a German immigrant who came to Pennsylvania. He had been born in 1795 and traveled over at the turn of the century. He moved to Georgia before Jordan vanished from the sight of the High Council. He was around Kentucky not long before Nate was found by his own mentor who taught him what he knew, but there was no sign other than the name drop that he and Leafmark as he was known, Gerard Falkner by birth, knew each other. Then Jordan vanished all together, save for a few mentions in Chicago in the 1890s. Barrett explained that the settlement of Northern California by Big Sur and the San Francisco Bay Area picked up in that time, giving a perfect new start for someone avoiding the Council.

Why had been the question, and Jordan, or Hans, explained he had been caught on multiple occasions finding and exporting interesting peoples for regional leaders. With slavery over in the United States, he had a new market available for the wealthy and well-established shifters who were technically considered feral, but not a problem. When his past caught up with him, he took a leaf from H. H. Holmes’ book and ran. He found people doing the same in California and began to prey on that. The man set himself up for well over 150 years in California and had taken a few of his own bond mates, all of whom died when he grew bored with them. It was after losing his favorite that he had noticed Bradley while on a trip to Oceanside. They had met in a surfer bar, though met was a stretch in Nate’s mind. He had tried to flirt with and take Brad home for the night. Brad, who until Nate had been largely heterosexual, declined politely and went home with a girl instead.

He admitted to the contract with the Logans and gave away where they had gone to after leaving in an attempt to lighten his sentence. Over six hours, they got more information out of him—two other feral leaders who use disposed super naturals to build their clan and use them for criminal activity. A number of murders and missing persons that were explained finally for the two chiefs of police in the council came to light. And at the end, the verdict was banishment from the New World and that the High Council will see to his punishment personally. Nate and Mike signed off their duty of finding him in blood, transferring his life and responsibility to the hands of Patterson. Thus, their chapter ended.

“I didn’t think they’d have the merger ready,” Nate mused though he felt excited and nervous.

“Helps when you’re merging with one of them,” Barrett dismissed. “We just need the signatures and to go get in touch with those in Gray Warren. Have you had success with that?”

“Some,” Brad offered. “Ray, for all his faults, texts like a teenage girl and has been in touch with them almost daily since we left. The issue is Shasta may have figured out what is up.”

“What makes you say that,” Nate asked alarmed. This was the first he had heard of that. As he went to question more a wave of comfort flowed through the Bond.

“I wanted the rest here to explain it, Nate,” Brad explained. “She has moved Gray Warren to the Catskills for three weeks for a mandatory retreat. Kocher told Walt last night.”

“Kocher,” Olivia asked. “I thought he was in a different pack.”

“He is,” Mike replied. “But he has known Pappy since they were children. Kocher had already joined Great Fang when Pappy was tied to Rudy. We all run together, so there was no need for him to shift over.”

“The bureaucracy of that region,” Barrett grumbled. “What does this retreat mean?”

“This is a mandatory retreat she does once in a while. Anyone who does not attend Shasta motions to be removed from the running grounds and banned from New York as an oath breaker.” Nate heard Brad growl and he looked over at him, then forward again. “It means all of us here have had our timelines jumped up.”

“How would she know something was happening,” Olivia asked. Nate’s brows furrowed as she put her hand on Mike in a calming gesture. Had he missed something?

“Cass,” Brad replied after a long pause. “Cass is less loyal to you and Mike. From what his Tied said, he chose your clan because you were the most attached to Shasta. You not being around may allow him to be there for the dissolved clan.”

“What if they merge with Great Fang,” Barrett asked, but Nate sighed.

“They’re already too big, I fear. It may start like that, but there was already a rumbling over starting another new pack when we left. Gray Warren being forced to break apart gives that new pack a place in the hierarchy.”

“Why,” Auburn asked.

“Because she hates Nate,” Mike explained. Nate opened his mouth to argue, but Mikle barreled on. “It was fine while he behaved and was respectful of how she wanted the world run, but once he took matters into his own hands, I think she realized she couldn’t control him.”

“But he’s a leader,” Olivia replied.

“No, I’m not. Or I wasn’t. I deferred to Mike the whole time. He was older and a captain of the police force. I hate the politics behind running packs, but I saw that Shasta would never give her all for someone who was not one of her own. Not for a human, and I couldn’t accept that.”

“So, this is punishment,” she snarked back.

“Really, if you knew her it’d make sense.” Nate heard the defeat in his own voice when he said that and winced. “That makes getting the others out a bit more difficult.”

“You two can head back to New York in the morning,” Barrett replied abruptly, pointing between the pair. “Mike and Olivia will finish up here and join you in a few days with a few of our boys. Redman and Cody have time off soon. We’ll handle the political side of all this, but you need to do the footwork. Get with Kocher and make sure you can be in the state before they try to kick you out without a trial on your behalf.”

“And you guys,” Nate asked, looking between them.

“We’ll be fine for the next few weeks,” Auburn promised. “Barrett and his group won’t be deployed until next month. You have time. We just need your signatures.”

The paperwork was placed on the coffee table with a few small, intricate daggers and quill-tipped pens. Brad looked at Nate, alarmed, and he sent a wave of comfort through the Bond. One by one, the three men pricked themselves with the daggers then used their blood as ink for the quills. They signed the documents officially binding themselves and their clan to Balboa. Nate and Mike were both made leaders of Balboa and Brad as one of the head humans. Olivia was the last it sign, and it clicked in Nate’s head why they had to stay later. The ceremony wouldn’t be for a while, but there was a lot of paperwork involved in a Bond. His green eyes looked at the four signatures scratched on several pieces of parchment and then up to the two men before him. He felt Brad push through the Net a blast of comfort and warmth. _Home._

“Welcome to Balboa, gentleman,” Barret replied with a half grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I am so sorry there was a long delay between the last post and this one. Midterms and a grad student is no darn joke. However, here it is, then end of the arch! Thank-you so much for this journey, the comments, and the kudos. I adore and appreciate all of you. The story is not exactly done, but I am taking a slight break to finish this semester and adjust to school again. I may also slowly work on my not abandoned but hiatus space fic after some editing, so I am not leaving just yet.
> 
> Stay tuned as I slowly prepare what would probably be the final installment of this saga. Again, thank you to everyone who read, Icetalon who originated this world, and Hufflepurls who has been my Beta throughout this fic. I love all of you. Stay healthy and safe out there! Until next time. <3


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